


Dead Girls Don't Get a Happy Ending

by G13



Series: Dead Girls Don't Sing [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Adventure, F/F, F/M, Faberrittana friendship, Faberry, Families of Choice, Family, Friendship, Gen, Horror, Klaine, M/M, Pre-Zombie Apocalypse, Romance, Time Travel, Time Travelling Lesbians, Zombie Apocalypse, brittana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G13/pseuds/G13
Summary: Sequel to Dead Girls Don't Sing They survived the apocalypse for longer than most. Thrust into the past, with their knowledge of the future they can do more than survive -they can thrive. Shaping the world around them is not without consequences. The enemy is large, the odds are impossible, and you can't plan for everything; it's going to be a long road to a happy ending.





	1. All By Myself

Rachel sat in the backseat of their car, clutching her severed braid in her hands as she stared at it sadly.

She had always wished her hair was like either of her dads. Instead, it was mostly wavy with a tendency to get poufy.

She had been contemplating changing her look for high school next year but had yet to decide how yet; at the moment, her papa or daddy always braided her hair in the morning for her.

Everyone always laughed at her either outright or behind her back when she said she did not know who her biological father was.

Her fathers assured her that she was nearly the spitting image of their egg donor. They found it simply amazing that biology had worked out well enough that they simply could not tell which of them ended up being her biological father. They'd really lucked out that the egg donor had _very_ strong genes.

Rachel found it pretty amazing too.

"We're going to have to take her to a hairdresser and have it fixed," LeRoy sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change.

She had two loving parents, great fathers who wanted the best for her.

Rachel had never been able to lie to her dads. She _was_ able to slip half truths and simply outright not mention certain things to them.

Things such as the fact that, for the past two years of Junior High, Jill Clark had been making her life horrible at school. Rachel was counting down the days until the summer. They would be going to different high schools. And her parents had utterly _no i_ dea.

Rachel knew that her life would greatly improve without Jill Clark in it. The bullying would stop, and Rachel would be able to focus on preparing for her future on Broadway.

So Rachel had prudently decided not to burden her parents with the knowledge.

Hiram snarled, "We're pressing charges. That's _final_." He was exactly eight inches shorter than LeRoy, but his presence was such that you would not notice unless it was pointed out.

Rachel knew logically that Jill was simply jealous of Rachel.

Rachel pitied Jill, she really did.

"Now now Hiram," Papa said soothingly, "It could have been an accident. We don't want to ruin some poor girl's life just because she accidentally cut Rachel's hair."

One day, Rachel would be a Broadway starlet. Jill would still be a nobody in Lima, envious and halfheartedly attending the community college with a vague plan to transfer to a four-year eventually, which she would never actually end up doing because she'd get impregnated first.

Rachel had a _future_.

It really was Rachel's fault for _telling_ Jill exactly that, loud enough for everyone around to hear and laugh at Jill.

"Well, Rachel? Darling? Was this an accident? Did this girl somehow _accidentally_ cut off _most_ of your _hair_ ," Hiram said acidly, giving LeRoy a look before looking much more gently at his daughter.

It was not most -Rachel's hair had been rather long, and still was. Hiram sometimes exaggerated for effect.

Rachel opened her mouth to say yes. It very well _could_ have been an accident, even if Rachel _very much_ doubted it.

the

**world**

_ended_

She gasped, the braid falling from her hands as her body jerked forward painfully against the seat belt.

The pain of _dying_ combined with whatever was happening blinded her for a moment. It took a moment for her vision to adjust; in that moment she lived two lifetimes.

Two lifetimes that were significantly much too short.

Either she had the most magnificent psychic premonition she had _ever_ had, or somehow...somehow, the alien technology had made her time travel.

She took in a deep, slow breath and watched the cars and people around them, half in disbelief half warily.

"Darling?" Hiram asked, and she turned from the window to stare at him.

He was alive.

Both her dads were _alive_.

"Clearly LeRoy, Rachel's traumatized from the assault on her person. _We press charges,"_ Hiram hissed at LeRoy, turning to face her. "Don't worry darling, we will be home shortly."

She closed her mouth, then opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She managed to nod, and wrapped her arms around herself, unable to do more at the moment then stare at her fathers, an image of their corpses in her mind.

She finally closed her eyes, and put her forehead against the window, soaking up the sun and heat. Despite this, Hiram's half eaten corpse was still vivid and fresh in her mind.

It was reasonable to assume the others would have time traveled as well.

After zombies, then aliens, time travel was not too difficult to believe in -although, she was not quite sure she was going to write off her psychicness just yet.

Her papa, her daddy -they, and everyone that the group had lost, were _not dead_.

And Rachel was going to _ensure_ they all stayed alive, no matter who or what stood in her way.

When her Hiram realized Rachel wasn't going to speak any further, he sighed softly, then said to LeRoy, "Betty said she could fit Rachel in at four."

It took a moment for Rachel to remember who Betty was -the hairdresser who took care of all three Berry's hair needs.

LeRoy nodded, "It's about two, how about we have a late lunch, do some grocery shopping first?" He looked at her in the rearview mirror, "Does that sound okay to you Pumpkin? Or would you rather we go home?"

"I want to be with you and Daddy, wherever you are," Rachel said after a moment of thinking about it.

What she wanted to do was go to her great grandmother's cottage, and have her rifle and ammo next to her at all times.

"Where do you want to do for lunch darling," Hiram asked her expectantly, turning from the passenger seat to look at her.

She couldn't stop staring at the neighborhood around them as they drove.

The sun -she felt like she had not properly felt the sun on her face in a very long time.

And the people -her neighbors, going about their lives without any fear.

It took her a moment to answer him -besides the distractions, she couldn't remember _when_ the Berry family had turned vegan.

All she could remember was Hiram getting the news from his doctor that his blood pressure was bad, and that, combined with the family history of heart attacks made him go vegetarian. Since he was the one who tended to cook more, they all simply followed suit -at least until someone sent Rachel a MySpace message that linked to a private video.

That, she would never forget.

It appeared, at first glance, as a fan video -which, naturally, Rachel had eaten up. They'd selected a video of her singing "Don't Rain on My Parade" which was, of course, a song that Rachel had been singing for a very _long_ time, so she had mastered it. It was one of the few songs she could watch herself sing and not find any real flaws to pick at.

She'd been utterly entranced.

Then, they'd cut in scenes from the meat industry -animals, baby animals, being treated and killed _horribly._ Rachel had watched the whole thing, then, horrified, demanded the Berry's go vegan.

Never parents to deny their daughter anything, and since they were halfway there already, LeRoy and Hiram had gone along with it.

Although sometimes Rachel had suspected LeRoy would have the occasional burger here and there.

So it took Rachel several long seconds to answer, and finally, all she managed was, "I do not have a preference Daddy, you decide please."

LeRoy suggested, "Does 'Mama Luna's' sound good Pumpkin?"

"Sure papa," Rachel shrugged.

The adults started talking quietly to themselves about work -they were _very_ successful insurance salesmen, leaving Rachel to her thoughts.

Rachel very much did not want to be alone with her thoughts.

She swallowed, determined not to think about anything.

Naturally, all she could think about was the last time the Berry family had driven through the streets of Lima -and how they were stopped.

Unable to take it anymore, Rachel closed her eyes. She needed to stop thinking about death, as difficult as that may be.

_Quinn smiled at her, her fading pink hair mussed up around her like a halo. She was beautiful, the scar on her face doing exactly what Rachel had thought it would do. It gave her a little character, showed that Quinn was a strong warrior, and enhanced her beauty. The scar will likely always send that little message of self-doubt to Rachel that if she had the scar, she would be simply hideous with it. Although maybe it would have distracted from her nose._

_Quinn reached over and gently ran a finger along the part of the burn scar visible on the front of Rachel's shoulder._

_"I still can't believe how quickly your burn, everyone's burns healed," the smile had turned to a frown, and Rachel knew she was thinking about Beth._

_Rachel gently placed her hand over Quinn's, deciding that she was not going to bring up Beth, unless Quinn brought her up first, "The alien technology is quite amazing, I hope they're able to do something helpful for us with it beyond defense."_

_Quinn raised an eyebrow at her, a look of bemusement and resignation on her face, "How long do you think you'll be punished for getting that alien technology?"_

_"I maintain they should be rewarding me, not punishing me."_

_"Of course. All you did was violate direct orders and nearly get yourself and two other people killed," Quinn replied dryly. She pulled her hand off Rachel's shoulder, and out from under Rachel's hand._

_"Granted, things went rather unexpectedly, but in the end the results were worth it."_

_Quinn shook her head, "You can't just put yourself, and others at risk Rachel."_

_"This world puts us at risk, Quinn. We need to do what we have to in order to survive."_

_This was an old conversation by now._

_Quinn sighed, "Well, you did send a girl to a crack house once..." Quinn managed a smile, and yet again this particular conversation was tabled for a time when they would have a serious discussion on the matter._

_Rachel thought of her decision to leave a bitten Quinn behind because that was what was best for the group. It was a hard choice, but someone had to make it for the group's sake. And Rachel had quickly realized it had to be her._

She would not, no matter how many lifetimes she had, forget that feeling of needing to leave Quinn behind. At least it was distracting her from thinking about the last drive the Berry family had through Lima.

As her Papa parked, Rachel felt the anxiety rising through her.

There were too many people, people Rachel did not know, that could do anything to them because they had no way to defend themselves.

She couldn't move at the realization that the absolute last thing she wanted to at the moment was to enter the restaurant, and be around people she didn't know.

Her fingers itched for her rifle.

"What's wrong Pumpkin," LeRoy asked when he realized she had not moved to unbuckle her seat belt.

"I.." She could not find the words, did not know how to explain anything she was feeling right now to her fathers.

Hiram unwittingly came to the rescue, "Obviously she's had a long day, LeRoy, and we shouldn't have taken her anywhere but home. How about we get lunch to go, and go home until your appointment?"

She managed to nod.

"Right, I'll get everyone their usual then," LeRoy said, closing his car door softly, leaving her alone.

Rachel had to stifle her desire to run after him, to not let him out of her sight.

"I think, daddy, I could just have an appointment on Monday?" she said softly to Hiram. She just wanted to go _home._

He turned to look at her critically, then shook his head, "Darling, that girl absolutely butchered your hair. And you have an audition for 'The Sound of Music' in Columbus on Sunday. You can _not_ show up with your hair like that."

It took Rachel a moment to answer him. She did not remember this audition at all.

Rachel had tried out for community theater many many times, and ending up with exactly zero roles total. She knew one thing for certain -she did not want to waste time auditioning when she was not going to get the part. Or even if she did get the part, it did not matter in the end.

She would never be on Broadway.

All that time, that money, the sacrifices she made.

There had, in the end, been no point to it.

She had to accept that once already, had already accepted it.

So why did she feel like sobbing?

"Daddy, I think perhaps I will skip this audition, it is unlikely they will hire me anyway. Sometimes a person is just not the correct fit for a role," she said it slowly, feeling the weight of the words as she said them.

Even with everything that had happened, and the apparent second chance, they were not easy to say.

Hiram gasped, "No, no darling! You cannot give up just because one mean, nasty girl tried to knock you down. You will go to the audition, you will be amazing because that's who you are, and you will get the part of Louisa. That nasty girl will be a distant memory. "

Rachel very nearly snapped at Hiram, just managing to swallow the urge. She was only...how old was she?

She took a deep breath and thought.

She did not even know what month it was. She remembered that the Jill event having been some time in 8th grade.

Giving that she'd entered kindergarten at the same time as her peers despite her December birthday, she was somewhat younger than the others in her classes.

That would make her...twelve.

Which meant she'd be thirteen in December.

She was only _twelve._

She was only twelve, and he was her father, and no matter how lenient the Berry's were, she was still a child and they her parents.

Hiram and LeRoy had been insistent on her doing dance classes since she was old enough to be able -they would not, especially Hiram, take her stopping them and other Broadway goal oriented activities lightly.

This was not going to be the first time she was going to find herself in the role of a child doing what she was told.

"Very well daddy," she said after a moment too long. He gave her a concerned look but mercifully said no more.

She did not feel like a twelve almost thirteen-year-old child. Even if she was feeling like her father making her audition was unjust and she was fighting the urge to both yell and cry, due to the surge of hormones.

She did not even feel like the seventeen-year-old she had been -she sat up a little straighter when she realized she had _only been seventeen._

How was that possible? It had not even been a year into the end of the world, yet they had gone through so much, done so much, watched so many die.

It felt like years; she was no longer a child but a woman. Had not been a child since that moment she tried in vain to keep her daddy from bleeding to death, so certain in her knowledge of the world, a world that until that moment had given her everything she'd ever asked for, that she did not even realize when he'd slipped away.

_Tears in her eyes, not even noticing the blood spreading out and covering her tights and dress in blood as she kneeled down next to her daddy, Rachel put pressure on his shoulder and side. "It's okay daddy, you are going to be fine," she said clearly to her daddy, not wanting him to panic._

_She could hear her father firing shot after shot with the rifle, cursing when he missed. Hopefully, someone else would come along, and they could get her daddy medical attention. Noah and Finn's mothers were both nurses, so if they could just get Hiram to them, he'd be fine. He had to be._

_She couldn't bring herself to sing to him, no matter how much he enjoyed her voice, so she continued speaking soothing words to her daddy, while putting pressure on his wounds. She was acutely aware when LeRoy stopping firing and looked up at him._

_LeRoy seemed to have aged ten years in the minutes it took him to put kill the zombies that had been coming towards them._

_"That noise will draw them from all over," LeRoy muttered, then looked at Rachel, "How is he?" he asked, his voice low and pained._

_"Papa he's bleeding so much, we need to get him to Mrs. Puckerman and Carole, or a hospital" Rachel looked up at her father, tears streaming down her face. She was intensely aware a large portion of her, from her legs to her wrists, were covered in her father's blood, and couldn't imagine what was going through her father's mind as he looked down at his child and partner._

_"There are no cars, and I would think if there was any way to fix that truck they would have…" LeRoy muttered, loosely holding the gun at his side with one hand, he stomped to the pile of their belongings and shoved boxes aside till he found the one he was looking for. Opening it, he grabbed the large first aid kit, and turned towards Rachel and the prone form of his partner._

_"Here Rachel, do what you can with..." He trailed off as he got a better look at Hiram._

_"What is it papa?"_

_Swallowing thickly, he said, "Rachel, check for a pulse. Then put on your hiking boots."_

_Rachel did as her father ordered, wiping her hand on her dress first. "Papa? He's…."_

_"Your daddy…he's gone pumpkin. We need to stay ahead of those things, we have to leave."_

_"No, we can't, we have to do something!" Rachel was incredulous._

_"We have to leave him. I know it's hard, but we can't stay here. He'd want us somewhere safe. Please, put on your hiking boots. Pull a pair of socks over your tights first. We'll…we'll be doing a lot of walking."_

A few tears traitorously leaked from her eyes, and she could not help it -she let out a soft sob that turned into sobbing quietly.

When Hiram realized she was sobbing, he joined her in the backseat, and held her close to him, murmuring comforting things in Hebrew as she sobbed.

Listening to his heart beat, and his soothing words, all Rachel could think about was being covered in his blood.

Finally, she was cried out. She laid there, exhausted, curled up against Hiram.

"Hiram?" She heard LeRoy ask softly after the car door was opened.

"I told her she had to go to her audition on Sunday, so she simply must get her hair fixed today," Hiram said, then sighed, "She gets that from me -and the hormones don't help, I'm sure. I do wish she'd gotten a little more of your calmness."

"Perhaps she will once those hormones settle down? She's almost thirteen, and she will be starting high school next year, that's a rough time. Maybe we should think about limiting her extracurricular activities a bit?" LeRoy suggested. Rachel could hear the general rustling noises, then the click of his seatbelt, before the car started.

"Her schedule _is_ rather full...I'm just not sure what we could cut from it," Hiram trailed off, "Piano?"

Rachel snuggled against Hiram, trying not to think about anything but the fact that they were alive. She would let them discuss which of her activities she would stop because it did not matter -Rachel was going to devote herself to learning skills that would be useful for the end of the world.

She allowed the car to lull her to a fitful sleep.

LINEREAK

She woke up groggy, unaware of what was going on, and uncaring until she realized someone was holding her, stroking her hair.

Her heart raced, and she scrambled to pull away from them instinctually.

The seat belt stopped her, sending a jolt of pain through her.

"Rachel? Darling?"

Taking deep breaths as the adrenalin flowed, she opened her eyes and realized that it had been Hiram.

Not a zombie, or someone will ill intentions.

Just her daddy. Her living daddy who was looking at her with clear concern.

"Just...just a nightmare daddy, I hadn't realized I was dreaming..."

He frowned at her, "Perhaps we can see if Betty will do a house call darling, and you can go to bed early."

"I would prefer that daddy, thank you," he nodded at her, reaching over and opening her door.

Rachel took in deep, even breaths, trying to calm herself down as she climbed out the car.

The house, the Berry home, stood in front of her. LeRoy, carrying their lunch, was just at the front door while Hiram was still at the car.

Tears came to her eyes as she stared at the house.

"Starla!" LeRoy shouted, then sighed heavily, and called, "Rachel make sure she doesn't get into the street!"

Rachel held her breath as a black and white Pomeranian ran fairly quickly for an elderly dog with arthritis towards her.

Starla's tail was bobbing back and forth happily. Once she reached Rachel, she started jumping up and down, hitting Rachel's leg with her front paws, making little demanding grunting noises.

Rachel scooped her up.

Starla.

Rachel knew now for _sure_ she was twelve -that was the year Starla had died.

One day, the Berry family had woken up to find their furriest member had a stroke so severe the veterinarian had recommended putting her to sleep. Starla had been eleven, and the Berry's had thought they'd have at least, given that she had the best care, doting family members, and the small dog life expectancy, another three or four years.

Starla's death had left a hole in their family that they still had not been ready to fill four years later when the world ended.

Tears once more came to Rachel's eyes, and she hugged the dog, who wiggled happily in her arms.

The car door slammed shut, and Rachel turned, watching Hiram carrying her backpack, his suitcase, and LeRoy's messenger bag up the path.

Rachel was so incredibly happy to see Starla again it nearly eclipsed how she was feeling about her dads.

There was a bittersweetness to that happiness -she would not be able to stop Starla's death.

She could, however, stop Hiram's and LeRoy's.

And she would.

* * *

She had barely managed to stand Betty being in their home, tolerating it long enough for the woman to cut her hair.

She was confident that having Starla there, being able to hold her, was the only reason she'd managed to get through the hair cut.

Even so, she had been tense the entire haircut simply because she did not like having someone she did not know well with a sharp implement near her face.

She kept her hair longer this time, requesting that it be cut to roughly midchest. Mainly to get it done that much quicker, and keep their stylist away from her face.

Once the woman had left, taking Starla with her, she'd retired to her room.

She sat on her bed and stared up at the ceiling as she lavished attention onto her dog.

Eventually, when Starla was clearly tired out, she reached over to her neatly organized bedside table, and her Zune and headphones.

She looked through all the music, a feeling she didn't recognize going through her as she browsed. She'd settled on a classic rock playlist, and pulled the headphones on, pushing play.

Looking at the music she'd enjoyed when she was young was like pulling on a warm sweater, fresh from the dryer, on a chilly day.

Nostalgia.

That's what the feeling she was feeling.

She swallowed back tears -she was too young to be feeling like a twenty-something going through the music she'd enjoyed when she was a kid.

Contrary to whatever everyone had believed, she enjoyed a wide variety of music, including classic rock and roll -which LeRoy had introduced her too.

As the first bit of "Don't stop believing" started to play, her fingers twitched with the need to take action -she had never been good at relaxation or downtime in general, and since that first day she could count the number of times she felt truly relaxed, without anything on her mind, on one hand.

She needed to be doing something.

Her laptop -a heavy, clunky thing that sat on her desk, and, she idly started at it before she realized with a start that she _could access the internet._

All the information in the world at her fingertips.

She stood up from her bed carefully -she didn't want to jostle the snoring Pomeranian and sat down at her desk chair.

There was so much she needed to know, to learn, that she was almost overwhelmed with what to look up first. Just the very fact that she can do so energized her in a way her brief nap in their vehicle did not.

It took her ten increasingly frustrated minutes to figure out what the password to her laptop was.

She tapped her fingers against her desk in agitation as first the laptop booted up, then Firefox. While she waited, she looked around her room.

She somewhat remembered it -the details were hazy, but the room felt familiar.

After bat mitzvah, her dads had let her redo it however she wanted to, and, well, she had chosen to design the room in a "grandmother builds a room for her toddler granddaughter" aesthetic which had nicely matched her clothing preferences. Of course, her bedroom in its current form was not very different, perhaps just a touch younger.

She had grown up on old movies and two dads who preferred to dress rather old fashioned. It was no wonder that she had the style she had had.

Firefox finally opened. Still undecided on what to look up first, and perhaps with a bit of nostalgia, she clicked on the saved tab that was always open on to MySpace.

She hadn't started doing daily videos until high school when it'd become clear to her that Glee club under Sandy was not going to give her what she needed and craved.

She only posted a video here and there before then. Now, she merely looked at the thumbnails of her videos -she did not want to hear herself sing.

It would be a fresh reminder that Broadway was gone, and so was the girl that she had been. And she had already cried enough today.

The newest video -a cover of her singing "What Goes Around...Comes Around" had quite a bit more comments then her other videos, which all had one or two.

Frowning, she clicked on it, quickly hitting pause before the singing started.

Sam Evans: Great job as usual Rachel.

Rachel Berry: You comment the same thing on every one of my videos!

Sam Evans: Because you do a great job singing Rachel. I've missed it.

Rachel Berry: ...? Well, I'm glad to have a fan! I will be certain to thank you in my first acceptance speech for always believing in me Sam Evans.

_Sam was back as well._

Heart racing, she clicked to send him a private message. She paused at the keyboard, unsure of what to say, before finally deciding on, "Sam, I believe we have much to discuss. Please send me your phone number."

It took him two hours to reply -it was nearly seven thirty now, and she had spent the time waiting for him typing up _everything_ she could remember from today until they had died. She intended on transferring what she had written into a notebook after she was sure she had everything down, and organized to her liking.

She had decided since she had years to prepare, that she did not need to start researching and learning just yet. There would be time for that, but first, she needed to decide, exactly, _what_ she needed to learn and do.

Preparation was going to be key to survival.

When she had realized he had replied back to her, with his phone number and nothing else, she took a deep breath, then picked up her phone.

She had her own land line, for no real reason then Hiram had always wanted one when he was a boy, and they could. She would get rid of it eventually in favor of a cell phone, but for now she was glad for it to avoid having to go downstairs and have this conversation where one of her fathers might hear.

The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" A young voice that sounded familiar but not enough to place it asked.

"Um, may I speak to Sam Evans please," she said as politely as she could.

"This is he."

A flash of panic went through her -Sam hadn't sounded like this. Either she was remembering wrong, or something had changed and he was -her frantic thoughts were interrupted, "Rachel I'm going to go into my room, just a second," a few moments silence, then, "I'm sure I sound weird...puberty hasn't really done it's thing on my voice yet," he half laughed and that, at least, sounded more like him.

Rachel calmed down a little and let out a rush of air, "You sound so young."

He laughed again, "So do you. I'm almost twelve, you must be twelve or thirteen?"

"I turned twelve in December, yes." The silence sat between them, until she added, "I just..arrived? Today."

"Since I was seven."

"Oh." She could not imagine coming back that early. "I'm so sorry Sam, that had to have been difficult...it must still be."

"Yeah, yeah it wasn't..it wasn't good for a while. But I think it'll be easier now that I know you're here too. I felt like a stalker when I finally found your MySpace, that took a while. I thought I'd remembered your last name wrong."

"My parents only let me make one when I entered eight grade..." She licked her lips, "I expect the others will be joining us as well, I can only hope before..."

"The day?" he suggested quietly.

"Yes. Before then, because it will be much more easier to prepare with them."

"How are we going to prepare? I mean, I pay a lot more attention to my granddad when he's teaching me stuff, and I read a lot but..."

"I am not sure yet, but now that we know the other is here we shall remain in contact." She felt the weight of being responsible on her shoulders, because of course there was not much Sam could do in Kentucky at the moment, and changed the subject, "Stevie must be a toddler now, and Stacy was recently born, am I correct? How are they? My fathers...they are amazing."

"I'm glad you have your dads back Rachel..." he trailed off, and was silent for a few long moments before he sighed, "Stacy's about nine months old. Sabrina's about two and half, and Stephanie is almost four."

"Sabrina? _Stephanie_?"

A terrible feeling went through her, and she closed her eyes as Sam answered, "Yeah...I well, I changed things...and...instead of Stevie and Stacy, I've got Stephanie, Sabrina, and Stacy."

"I am so so sorry Sam." To live with that guilt for the rest of his life, she could not even imagine.

"It's not...I kinda remember him, but not really? Like he's a character in a book I read a long time ago. The memories were a lot stronger when I first got here, but by the time I realized I'd changed things so that mom got pregnant with Stephanie a lot earlier then she'd gotten pregnant with Stevie, they were really faded. I wrote stuff down, but...I think a lot of that was just from being so little, but I suggest you write yours down too."

"I have started to, but I will make sure to finish," she pictured Sam reading to Stevie and Stacy. A deep feeling of sorrow went through her as she realized that she was literally the only person on the planet who truly remembered Stevie. "I am sorry, regardless."

"It's not your fault, it's not even really my fault. I was little, I was freaked out...I didn't know that by having a nightmare I'd butterfly effect Stevie out of existence," he replied wirily.

LeRoy sang out to Rachel that dinner was ready, and Rachel sighed, "I have to go eat dinner Sam...we shall keep in contact both via phone and MySpace."

"Alright, update me or just call whenever you want someone to talk to, okay?"

"Of course. Please do the same with me."

As she walked downstairs, once more carrying Starla, Rachel wondered just how easy it would be to change the future for the worse. Perhaps she should not, just in case, drop _all_ of her current extra curriculars?

It was definitely something for her to think about.

* * *

Hiram insisted on giving her sleeping medicine Friday night, citing her earlier nightmare in the car, and that she needed to be well rested for Saturday. She argued against it, because the thought of being so deeply asleep terrorized her, which somehow managed to prove Hiram's point. She lost the fight.

Friday night she did not dream.

Saturday's were, apparently according to the calendar on her desk, normally spent at two dance classes, and vocal training. She managed to get out of all three, citing what had happened at school on Friday, and wanting to prepare for her audition the next day.

She spent most of the morning in her room, with her laptop and Starla finishing up typing everything she could remember.

Her father's reluctantly gave her space. They did knock on her door an awful lot to see if she needed one of them, water, or anything really.

Rachel did not mind the interruptions.

She finished, saved multiple copies of the document, and carried Starla downstairs.

She had held off as long as she could, but she could not take it anymore.

She set Starla down on the dog's bed, gave her a pat on the head and called out to the parent lurking in the kitchen, "I am going on a bike ride."

She slung her purse on, and was buckling her bike helmet when LeRoy called out, "Call home if you go too far and need a ride home!" Their neighborhood was nice enough that LeRoy would not worry if she rode around by herself. Hiram would, but Hiram tended to worry about _everything._

She was going to ride her bike across town to her great grandmother's home, and collect her rifle.

It was roughly seven miles away across town. And she was planning on stopping at several stores which were along the way depending on the route she took.

Rachel was in excellent shape, so by the time she has ridden two and a half miles she's not particularly winded or anything as she comes to a stop in front of one of the army surplus stores in Lima.

She had selected this one because it was the biggest.

The first place she headed to was the bags, selecting a serviceable looking alice pack in black, not even trying it on -she had yet to hit her growth spurt, so was still under five feet tall. The pack was a large, it would look ridiculous on her.

Quickly, glad the store was mostly empty, she moved to look at the knifes. She wanted a large one to keep under her pillow, that would give her a bit of peace of mind. She was mulling over two choices, and had finally decided on one, when the clerk, an older man noticed her looking and ambled over. "You know I can't sell one of those to you, right?"

Rachel looked up at him, "Why?"

"Gotta be eighteen. State law."

Rachel stared at him then said slowly, "Well, perhaps I'll simply buy the sheath, and the knife is included for free."

He chuckled, "Tell me what a little bitty girl like you needs with a knife like that, and I'll think about it."

She glared at him, "The end of the world. Sell it to me, and myself and mine shall buy from your store instead of your competition. Of course, money will be useless eventually."

He stared at her, then gave her a grin, "I like the cut of your jib kid. You ready to check out?" He pulled the knife she wanted out of the case and set it on the counter.

"This will be all for now, yes," Rachel set her shoulder's back, and tried to convey that she was serious.

It worked, too, because the clerk sobered, and seemed to take her much more seriously as he checked her out.

Once the knife was in her new bag, and the bag adjusted and on her shoulders, Rachel continued her ride to the cottage.

She tried not to think about anything but the sun on her face.

Not thinking about the future was easier said than done, and by the time Rachel pulled up to the cottage, panting slightly, she could not stop the over whelming feeling that nothing she did not was going to matter. She was going to fail, everyone she cared about was going to die, and she'd be alone.

She didn't bother with the kickstand, she just let the bike fall to the ground as she got off it, letting the bag slip off her shoulders as well.

She closed her eyes, feeling, despite the sun and the bike ride, cold.

With a little sob, she slid to the ground.

There was so much to do, to learn, and she had no idea when the others would be joining she and Sam.

"Did your fairy parents tell you you're adopted? Because you aren't, they bought an egg and paid a woman to carry you. They need to be more careful how they talk to you, there's a reason two men can't raise a child together. Need a woman's touch," a soft gravelly voice said.

Rachel looked up, and wiped away tears she stared up at the coca skinned elderly woman who was looking down at her expectantly.

Rachel had quite forgotten that her great grandmother was alive and currently occupying her home.

"Miss Henrietta..." Rachel gasped out.

If she could not even remember a simple fact such as the one that Henrietta Rose Berry was still alive and kicking at this time, then how could she remember some needed vital information during an emergency?

Rachel started sobbing harder.

"Come on girl, Miss Henrietta will give you some milk and cookies. Although I'm sure your dads will be irritated they aren't all natural hippy milk and cookies," Miss Henrietta, with a surprisingly strong grip, helped Rachel stand up. Rachel allowed herself to be led into the cottage, and to Miss Henrietta's kitchen table.

She felt cried out and embarrassed by the time Miss Henrietta placed two glasses of milk and a plate of cookies on the table, then settled in the chair across from Rachel with a sigh.

"Did you start your monthly and LeRoy and the other one send you here to me because they're two men? It's been a mighty long time, but I suspect I can talk to you about that."

Rachel could not remember when she had her first period nor how her dads had handled it, just that it had not happened yet. She shook her head.

Henrietta Rose Berry, born in1919. She'd survived the Great Depression when half her siblings did not. She was one of the handful of African American nurses during WW2. She had so far outlived her husband and all but one of her children.

She loved LeRoy, he was her favorite out of her grandchildren. She tolerated Hiram. She was not one to curb her language or opinion, so her dads did not bring Rachel around her often. LeRoy took Miss Henrietta to church every Sunday, and had lunch with her.

That was all Rachel really knew about her.

"Well girl, there's a reason you rode your bike across town to see me. What is it? Have a cookie." Miss Henrietta pushed the plate towards Rachel.

Rachel tentatively picked up one of the cookies -obviously homemade, loaded with chocolate chips.

She took a bite, and it was the best cookie she had ever tasted. She was quite certain it was not just because until three days ago, homemade cookies had been a very rare treat with only just enough per person to say you had some.

"This is amazing," she mumbled through the bite. Once she'd swallowed, she took a deep breath, "May you teach me to cook? And bake? And sew? And anything else you can or want to? I know we are not close but...may I join you and Papa on Sundays?" She felt herself rambling. Miss Henrietta was Rachel's family, and, as crass as it was, she was a wealth of knowledge that would be a much better instructor then the internet or books.

Miss Henrietta pursed her lips together, "Well, I know your dads won't know any of that, being two men so I'm happy to teach you. I don't know if LeRoy and Hiram will be okay with it. They don't think _I_ am a good influence," Miss Henrietta snorted, "And I would love for you to join us on Sundays. It's about time you start looking into your father's religion."

Rachel must have had a look on her face, evident through the second cookie she was nibbling on, while taking sips of milk, so Miss Henrietta added, "I saw that woman your dads bought -even talked to her for a few minutes. Her genes are very strong, but I can see LeRoy and his momma, bless her soul, in your face. "

Rachel took a sip of her milk, then said, "Everyone always laughs at me when I say I do not know who is my biological father."

"Well, they've clearly never seen a picture of the woman who donated herself to your fathers. You know Hiram's mother said she saw her features and Hiram's in you too, and we ultimately decided it didn't matter who your biological father is, but some people might think it's a big deal. You'll fine, Rachel, that most people are fools. And that's likely something your dad doesn't want me saying to you, but it's not going to hurt you to have some reality in that fancy singing life Hiram and LeRoy insist on, is it?"

Rachel couldn't disagree. She found her fascinated with Miss Henrietta, and sat there talking to her. Well, mostly Rachel listened.

Miss Henrietta had the neighbor give Rachel a ride home when they both realized that if they weren't already, soon her dads would be getting worried.

It made Rachel sad that she hadn't really known her great grandmother before. Her father's had tried to shelter her...they had not known that Rachel would hear worse than Miss Henrietta's dated opinions at school.

She spent the rest of the day in her room, trying to read and not think.

It somewhat worked too, and Rachel ultimately decided that her visit with Miss Henrietta had done wonders to relax and calm her nerves. Likely because there was no pressure there; Miss Henrietta would die of old age sometime soon, and there was nothing Rachel could do about it.

Rachel went to bed that night at eight, because Hiram and LeRoy insisted on an early start the next day.

They had to drive to Columbus fairly early for her audition and her dads had apparently also decided they would visit a supposedly excellent singing teacher that blew her current _two_ out of the water the morning before the audition.

* * *

_Rachel felt tears pool in her eyes, and unable to contain the sob she let out, Rachel turned away, and saw her father raise the rifle out of the corner of her eye._

_With a sickening and very loud bang that seemed to echo through Rachel's bones, the crying mercifully stopped._

_"We need to leave Pumpkin. I'm afraid there's nothing here for us," LeRoy said bleakly, staring at the stroller for a moment before he stepped back, and closed the supply closet door firmly._

_Taking a few deep breaths to have control of herself once again, she nodded, and desiring to stir some hope inside them both, added, "Perhaps we will find a vehicle."_

_"Maybe we will…" LeRoy trailed off as loud growls seemed to get louder._

_Rachel and her father both whirled around, and Rachel could only stare in horror at the sight._

_A dozen yoga goers, apparently alerted to their presence from the rifle fire, crowded into the hallway from the employee area, making that hallway even dimmer since their red, swollen bodies blocked off the bright light from the rest of the studio._

_Apparently, there had been a "Mommy and Me" yoga class going on, and none of the women had heard about what was happening. None of the slings or baby backpacks on any of the walking corpses held a baby, just a gore covered mess on torn straps._

_Rachel felt the bile rise up in her throat, as once more tears pooled in her eyes. Those poor poor babies, they never had a chance._

_"Rachel, stay calm pumpkin, we have to run. We'll be alright." LeRoy muttered, a note of hysteria in his voice as he shifted the rifle so he could hold onto it with one hand comfortably, then reached out with his other hand to Rachel. She grabbed it, needing the comfort, even if it would likely impede their running. Warily, for a moment the pair stared at the mass of zombies, now temporarily stuck in the doorway because they were too brainless to realize if they all tried to go through, they wouldn't make it._

_The ones in front were struggling to break free, waving their arms in the hallway._

_LeRoy ran, bringing Rachel with him. Every step was painful, but Rachel took no notice as she struggled to keep up with her father. The pair pressed themselves against the boxes against the wall, while trying to go as fast as they could. For a moment, Rachel hated the owner of this studio for keeping boxes in the hall, for the layout, for being open today, then guiltily pushed that thought aside; the owner had no idea what would happen, that their customers would turn into zombies, feast upon their own children, then try to kill Rachel and her surviving father._

_"Just stick closely to the boxes Pumpkin, " her father muttered, "And be as fast as you can," he finished with a little sigh. Rachel immediately picked up her speed, even though it hurt her terribly to do so._

_The exit was so close, Rachel knew, they just had to get past those hands and gnashing teeth. Rachel barely had time to second guess their path, when her father was pulling her through the small space in-between the arms and boxes, the finger's of the grasping zombies just barely skimming them. A box fell, hitting her painfully on the shoulder, causing Rachel to instinctively step away._

_Right into the waiting arms, ready to pull Rachel to their teeth where they would try to get her brains, Rachel realized dazedly as she was pulled from her father's grasp. This was it, this was how she died. Not murdered by an obsessed fan, or very tragically on stage, or mysteriously that would have people arguing if she had faked her death, and was still alive somewhere retired from her fame._

_Most of them seemed try to grab at her, and her clothing without thought, missing, just forever attempting to grab her. One managed to grab her hair, another grabbed her backpack, and yet another had her sleeve tightly held in her -it's clutches. She had barely been able to utter, "Papa," before her father, obviously realizing she was in trouble, turned around, and with several frantic stops towards her, starting hitting the things with the rifle butt, with -not with determination, but with desperation._

_Rachel struggled and tried to pull away, tears falling freely from her eyes as she desperately tried to escape the grasps of the undead that held her. She could feel their nails digging into her clothes, pressure points hit her all over as she struggled to escape. Next to her, her father was roaring at her to pull away, alternating with pleading with the zombies to let her go as he hopelessly pummeled zombies with the rifle butt._

_Desperate, as she tried to pull away, she started trying to pull boxes onto the zombies, frantic and hopeless. The zombies took no notice of what boxes she managed to get to fall, most weren't hitting them but landing dangerously near her anyway, and she felt herself budging inch by inch towards their hungry mouths._

_She struggled with all her might, then finally screamed._

_"Pumpkin!" LeRoy shouted her name, then with a roar he rushed towards her, dropping the rifle. He grabbed her, pulling her to safety and had a moment to say, "I love you Pumpkin," before the arms pulled him to the hungry mouths that waited, "Run..." he muttered._

_"No, no, papa I cannot leave you!" She could only stare helplessly as the zombies started taking bites out of him._

_Some of the zombies, in trying to get a better bite from her father, squeezed out of the doorway, and noticed her. "Run!" Her father commanded._

_Then he started screaming._

_Rachel turned, and ran._

_Then she tripped over the forgotten rifle._

_She fell to the ground, hard, then let out a sob as she realized the fall had knocked out all her teeth._

_She frantically tried to pick them up, before she felt something bite into her ankle._

_She was bitten, she was not immune, and now she was going to die. Toothless. What would Quinn do without her? What would their group do without her yin to Quinn's yang?_

Rachel woke up Sunday morning slowly. Her heart was racing. A quick glance showed her it was twenty minutes before her alarm was due to go off, so returning to sleep would be pointless. She was not sure she would be able to return to sleep anyway.

It was silly, but she felt the need to check her teeth, just to make sure they were intact and where they were supposed to be.

They were.

She scooped up the still sleeping Starla, and padded downstairs in her nightgown to let the dog out to go potty. Once Starla had, (and Rachel watched amused as the dog had pointedly ignored Rachel in favor of walking past her and to settle in her dog bed) Rachel jumped into the shower.

She wasn't used to hot showers any more, and could not quite bring herself to luxuriate in one.

She dressed mechanically, settling on a dress, tights, and cardigan -before switching out the cardigan with one of Hiram's sweaters.

It did not matter what she wore anyway.

Hiram came down the stairs when Rachel was on her second cup of coffee.

He stopped short and stared at her, then said, "Darling, since when do you drink coffee? I thought your papa and I told you that you may _try_ it _after_ your bat mitzvah?"

The lie came to her quickly, "I woke up before my alarm, and I do not want to be sleepy at the audition."

He frowned at her, "It is a near two hour drive darling, you could have napped on the way there."

Mercifully, he says no more about it; the excitement of Rachel's audition always made him more lenient.

Rachel was really quite lucky she had two doting parents who spoiled her just a bit.

She did not sleep on the drive to Columbus -her fathers helped her rehearse Louisa's lines and they sang "Some of my Favorite Things" -her audition song, over and over together. Often times her dads would stop singing just to enjoy listening to her. When Rachel needed a break, or Hiram worried himself into a frenzy about the audition, they listened to a mix CD of various songs from various musicals.

She felt rusty, at first, but by the time they had drove onto the Columbus exit that feeling had gone away.

She was more than ready to get this over with.

A feeling that intensified as her fathers spoke with, and realized, the new teacher was a hack.

She was not exactly looking forward to school on Monday -the Berry's had a meeting with the principal and a police officer after lunch, and there was just Junior High in general to deal with.

She did not even remember which locker was hers, let alone the combination or her class schedule.

But handling that would be less of a waste of time then this audition.

"Darling, how on earth are you so calm?" Hiram asked as they waited for Rachel's name to be called, "We brought half a dozen water bottles but you have not needed a single one."

"Remember how at the last audition you had to pee three times?" LeRoy said then chuckled.

"Perhaps it was the coffee?" she suggested with a shrug.

It was quite easy to be calm when she knew that she was not going to get the part, and that there were much more bigger things to be concerned about.

"Please do not make a habit of drinking it, you are a wee bit too young for it darling," Hiram frowned, "And the amount of cream and sugar you put into it was way too many cal-"

"Hiram," LeRoy said sharply, and gave her daddy a pointed look.

Rachel's name was called, and as she walked to the stairs she could see LeRoy whispering rapidly to Hiram about not policing Rachel's calories.

That was an old argument they used to have, that they likely did not realize that she knew about. Hiram had been constantly worried that Rachel would eat herself out of stardom, while LeRoy was more worried that Hiram's worry would give Rachel an eating disorder. Especially when Rachel wasn't a huge eater in general anyway, so Hiram's fears were more anxiety ridden nitpicking than anything else.

Rachel had totally forgotten about it.

"Name, role, and song?" a bored looking blonde woman asked from the front row. The lights seemed too bright, and she suddenly wished she had been more insistent on not wasting their time for this. She could count the days down to the day if she wanted to, and none of them should be wasted.

Rachel managed a smile, and said, "Rachel Berry," then, she decided since she was not going to get the part anyway, to reach for the stars. "I am auditioning for the role of Liesl. I will be singing..." it took her a moment to think of something, finally she said, "Mama Who Bore Me from Spring Awaking. Acapella."

'Mama Who Bore Me' had been the last song they had listened to in the car.

Singing acapella at auditions was a nono, but frankly, she did not really care.

She stared intently out into the audience, then started singing after a moment, " _Mama who bore me...Mama who gave me..."_

* * *

Hiram managed to last until they were at the car before he burst. "Rachel, sweetie, what happened? You sang the wrong song, for the wrong part. You are too _young_ for Liesl, you have _zero_ chance of getting the part now. How do you expect to prepare for Broadway if you do not get parts in community theater?" he took a deep breath, and stared at her as she opened her door.

Rachel had enough, "I _told_ you I did not want to audition. I am not a little girl, my wishes should be respected." Hiram flinched at her words.

No. Not at her words -at her _tone_.

It was the tone of a someone who had made hard choices, and done things she never would have thought she would have done.

It was the tone of a survivor; cold, blunt, with an edge of danger.

She swallowed hard utterly aghast at herself.

"Hiram, she did say she did not want to audition. Rachel, we realize you aren't a little girl, but we are still your parents. Part of being parents is making choices for you." LeRoy said patiently.

"We spend a lot of money and time for you to learn these skills Rachel, and for you to just throw all that away," Hiram sounded like Rachel had just told him she hated him; the disappointment and melancholy coming through clearly.

"You are both correct. I am sorry daddy, papa. I did not think I would get the part anyway, so I decided to aim high, with the hopes that I would stand out by singing without music," she added, in hopes that it would distract them a bit, "Jill said...well, she said several racist things I will not repeat about my audition for 'The Sound of Music'. I let her get to me, I am sorry."

Her dads shared a look, and Hiram's jaw clinched. "Has that terrible girl been bullying you this entire time? What a little -"

"Hiram," LeRoy cut him off, "We will deal with her. I'll call our lawyer once we're home and have her meet us at the school tomorrow."

She climbed into the car, and her parents joined her, discussing tomorrow.

Her audition was forgotten, it seemed.

She hated lying to them about anything, but she could not exactly tell them the truth.

And she really hated how _easy_ it was to lie to them.

The drive home started silent, as the three seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually, though Rachel found herself watching her dads bickering over which station to listen through, eventually coming to a compromise of switching every commercial break. They both sing along to every song, regardless of if it's their preferred station or not.

Rachel felt like crying because she loves them so much. She settled on singing along with them instead, vowing to herself that she would do everything in her power to keep them alive, even if it means disappointing them.

* * *

"Good job boys, now help your sister," Abrams barked to his children as all three of them ran through the kid friendly obstacle course he'd built in the backyard for them.

Artie nodded, and gestured to Arthur, then both boys ran to their sister.

Abrams loved watching Artie run.

At first, he'd been confused and nearly convinced he was in some sort of hell.

He'd stopped his wife, and sons from going out anyway.

The drunk driver ended up wrapping herself around a pole instead of his wife's car.

Most marriages didn't survive losing a child, and theirs had not been exception. Now though, Arthur didn't die. Artie didn't lose the use of his legs. Over three years now, and their family had grown instead of being torn apart.

Nearly two year old Arlene toddled over the tires, Artie and Arthur making sure she didn't fall.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing he'd end up changing, he though, grimly glancing up at the sky.

That had been much more difficult, but he'd known the right words to say to the right people, and well, this time earth wasn't going to be such easy pickings.

NASA's budget was at a record high, even if the President was getting flack for it.

He wondered idly if the next President would get the same flack or not.

That was the more public of what the USA and other governments had been doing. Behind the scenes...well.

The general public would flip out if they knew. Even the amount of satellites that had gone up, orbiting the moon and just away from earth in order to give them more advanced knowledge alone would raise some eyebrows.

Sometimes he wondered how the kids were doing -damned if he could remember their names, just that they were in Lima. A town the Abrams family would _not_ be moving to this time.

He hoped they were preparing, getting ready for what was coming.

Like he was trying to do.

"Artie, run through again son, then we'll head into the house. I'm thinking ice-cream!" The kids cheered, and obediently Artie went to do as he was told.

Hopefully what he was doing with the government, and a good portion of earth's governments would do a lot to prevent what had happened.

If not, though, the Abrams family would be ready for what was coming. Abrams wasn't going to lose his family again.

 


	2. Wishin' and Hoping

Hiram was stewing about her "blowing" the audition. Rachel could tell by the way he sat in the passenger seat, he had always worn his emotions clearly.

LeRoy, on the other hand, had always been the family rock, the calm one among the drama prone, Rachel had no idea if he agreed with Hiram or not, but...he wanted her to be a star too, so Rachel knew it was likely.

It was amazing how much Rachel had grown to be like LeRoy during the apocalypse. She had even picked a partner that was similar to Hiram in feeling moods vividly, even if the apocalypse had muted Quinn in shades of grey.

The car ride was somber; her dads discussed work, and some things that needed to be done in the house, and LeRoy noted that Starla had been getting a little slower, and walking with a slight limp in her back left leg. She wanted so badly to explain to Hiram that it did not matter what she had sang, she never even got call backs for anything she tried out for -but of course, she did not.

Hiram was saying, "Of course we shall take her to the vet, I'll try to get us in tomorrow during our lunch break," when LeRoy's clunky phone rang.

She felt terrible he was feeling bad because he simply did not understand, but it was difficult for her to be upset about the audition itself.

She could quite  _literally_  count down the days until the end of the world. Every day  _needed_  to be spent doing something productive towards future survival.

Hiram answered it for him with a frown after he looked at the name on the screen.

"Hello Miss Henrietta. We should be entering Lima shortly, LeRoy will not be late." Hiram drew in breath sharply, then said, "I see. LeRoy and I will have to discuss it."

Hiram's voice was low. It only turned that low when he was _very_ upset, bordering on angry. "Rachel Barbra Berry, did you ride your bike all the way across town to Miss Henrietta's house yesterday?"

"Yes daddy, I-"

"And did you tell her that you would like to go to church with her and LeRoy? And spend more time with her?"

"Hiram," LeRoy said.

Hiram turned to him, "Did you  _know_  about this LeRoy? I thought we  _agreed_  -that woman, and her antiquated poison, will not fill our daughter's mind!"

"I didn't know, no. But I think Rachel's old enough to realize that Miss Henrietta has dated opinions that we don't agree with." LeRoy sighed, and added, "And she's  _also_  old enough to know that there are people out there that think like Miss Henrietta does, but they don't have age to excuse them."

Hiram clinched his jaw, and turned, staring firmly out the windshield, "We _will_  discuss this later LeRoy. What do you have to say for yourself Rachel? You could have been  _kidnapped_."

The silence in the car sat heavily as he waited expectantly for her reply. She didn't know what to say. Her first instinct was to argue that Miss Henrietta was her family, and could teach her many things that her father's didn't know -like sewing. She practically bit her tongue to stay quiet, then sighed softly as she realized that an apology would help things be less tense.

"I'm sorry daddy, I should not have rode my bike that far without saying something. I thought it would be okay."

Hiram inhaled, and exhaled slowly out his nose before answering, "I need to think about this darling."

The silence in the car was heavier then before.

Hiram was correct; they were quite close to Lima, and soon Rachel was stepping out of the car onto their driveway watching Hiram stiffly walk through the front door.

"Rachel, I wish you had spoken to me and your daddy first," LeRoy stared at her, "I understand wanting to have a woman in your life, especially as you're getting older, but-"

Rachel interrupted him, shaking her head, "You and daddy are perfect; it was not about needing a mother or a woman, it was simply wanting to connect with a family member you clearly love, despite her more unsavory side."

LeRoy smiled at her, "That is very sweet of you Pumpkin."

"I think we should head inside now, and speak to Daddy."

LeRoy nodded, took her hand, and together they walked into the house.

Hiram was waiting for them, holding Starla and petting her. Once LeRoy closed the door, Hiram took a deep breath, "Rachel may join you and Miss Henrietta at church, but she will _not_  be baptized or anything. She -"

"Daddy, I am  _Jewish_ ," Rachel interjected, and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. She pulled back and added, "No matter how often I may join Papa and Miss Henrietta at her church, I assure you, I will  _remain_  Jewish."

Hiram frowned down at her, but nodded, "Very well. And on days you join LeRoy and Miss Henrietta at church, I will join the three of you for lunch. Assuming," he looked up at LeRoy, "Miss Henrietta can behave herself." His tone made it clear he'd rather eat broken glass, but he'd make the sacrifice for them.

LeRoy smiled, and Rachel felt elated that a sticky situation had been avoided, but also because she simply loved seeing him smile and had not realized how much she had missed it.

"She'll be delighted to have you both; she always makes too much food in hopes, I assume, that I'm not the only one who visits her. I think she's a bit lonely, so being around Rachel more will do her a world of good." LeRoy glanced at his watch, "Speaking of which Pumpkin, we should get going. Hiram, we'll swing by and pick you up after service."

Hiram nodded stiffly, sighed, then gave LeRoy and Rachel pecks on the cheek, careful not to squish Starla.

* * *

Brittany frowned at the rainbow peaking through the clouds. She hated rainbows now, because one had killed her sister. Of course, maybe she could forgive them since it hadn't - _wouldn't,_  happen again.

Then again, the rainbow lasers would still probably kill a lot of other people so maybe it was okay to still hate them. She was brought out of her thoughts by Lord Tubbington batting at her bracelet.

Santana had gotten them friendship bracelets for Brittany's birthday a few weeks ago, platinum from Tiffany's -the store, not Brittany's sister, and paid for with her credit card.

Brittany loved their bracelets, and had cried herself to sleep so much when Santana asked her not to wear hers anymore because it made Santana sad that Brittany had been dating Artie. Well, that was the  _real_ reason, but Santana had rolled her eyes and said the bracelets were childish and clashed with everything.

That wasn't going to happen this time.

Brittany had decided she wasn't going to date, or have sex with, anyone but Santana. Because they were married, and it still counted even if Santana didn't know.

Yet.

Hopefully.

Sometimes Brittany had a nightmare where she was the only one still, even when the end of the world happened.

Lord Tubbington batted at her bracelet again, and she reached down and scratched his chin. He was in the gangly teenage cat stage.

Not only had he chosen her, he'd  _known_ her. He'd known her and Santana and all the things she'd taught him in the before.

It made the now less lonely to know that she wasn't the only one. Brittany wasn't dumb, she realized that if she had time traveled, then the others had too, but it was really hard to know  _when._ They would. They would too and she wouldn't be alone _._

Santana hadn't yet, neither had Tina.

"Ugh, Hannah you jump like a pug. Which works, because you have the face of one," Santana snapped, then shot a quick glance at Brittany to see if she'd say anything. Brittany shook her head slightly at Santana, with a frown. Santana added, "But your kicks are great. Unlike Tina's."

The first time she'd met Santana, they had been in fourth grade.

Santana was the new kid, transferring to their school with only a few weeks left before the summer.

Brittany was always content to be by herself most of the time, and when she felt like company she'd play or talk to whoever she wanted to, everyone liked her because she was nice and friendly and a little odd.

The first time she really noticed Santana, and actually spoke to her, Santana had pulled her one of her pig tails, and called her an idiot and a few Spanish words because Brittany was carefully coloring outside the lines of the coloring book she was working on at recess.

Brittany had reached out, agile and swift from dancing, and kicked Santana hard enough that tears came to her eyes, quick enough that the teachers milling around didn't notice.

Then Brittany had shown her how pretty the finished coloring pages were when everything but the main part was colored.

Santana had looked at her, wiping away the tears, and called her weird -but then she'd hovered around her at recess-just out of kicking range, until school ended. Sometimes they'd talk, but Brittany was pretty content on being by herself so most of the time they didn't, or Santana would talk and Brittany would listen.

They were in separate classes all the way up till seventh grade, when they went from one teacher teaching all the classes, to switching to multiple teachers in a day.

They had the same home room teacher, and two classes together in seventh grade.

That was almost enough, but their friendship was cemented when they both made their Junior High cheer team, and went to cheerleading camp that summer.

Hannah -who Brittany had been best friends with since they were little, and who went to a private school so they only saw each other a few times during the week, did _not_  like Santana.

The feeling was mutual.

With hindsight, and maturity, Brittany could see that Hannah felt their friendship was slipping away.

While Santana was jealous.

They'd both lost their virginities to the same boy at cheer camp the summer before they started high school. He'd been from Roswell, New Mexico -and Brittany had been first.

Once more, in hindsight, she realized Santana had only had sex with him because  _Brittany_  had and she was jealous.

That was this summer, and it  _also_  wasn't going to happen this time.

"Tina, you need to jump higher. Why are you even bothering to practice with us, since you're only a seventh grader?" Santana snarled, and Brittany gave Lord Tubbington another scratch, and peaked over the side of the pack n' play at her sister, who was gumming a large wood block and rattling a noise maker around.

"Because she's my friend and she's going to be so awesome next year," Brittany said, "She'll have plenty of time to practice everything."

Santana flipped her hair, and without a word, turned around to show Hannah and Tina the routine again.

Brittany watched Santana mess up a couple parts of the routine; she could tell Hannah noticed too, but didn't say anything.

She'd forgotten how much they -she and Hannah, with a very bored Santana a few times to help, before Hannah told her that she thought Santana was mean and made her nervous, worked to get Hannah on the Cheerios.

Hannah and her had been best friends since they were four.

Of course, they grew apart. That's life.

Brittany had Santana, then Quinn, and Hannah didn't really approve of how free Brittany was with her love.

Hannah was a bit of a prude.

Brittany wasn't going to make out with everyone any more, though. Maybe her and Hannah wouldn't grow apart this time.

Hannah picked a piece of grass out of her pony tail and sighed, "Brittany, try outs aren't until July!"

"Y..yeah," Tina added. She still looked like Brittany was pulling a mean prank on her, even though it'd been months since Brittany had sought her out and started being friendly with her.

They'd gone to the same middle school.

Time travel was  _lonely._

This wasn't _her_  Tina, not yet, but just being in her presence was a comfort to Brittany.

It was easy to tell herself that Tina had wanted to be Cheerio -who hadn't, anyway, so it was okay that Brittany had befriended her and practically forced Tina to join in on their training.

_Tina was 64 inches tall. Brittany was 68 inches tall. That was 11 feet. The door, and a tiny ledge, sat 12 feet above them. The ledge was 6 inches thick. So that made 1 and a half feet that they needed to reach._

_Tina wasn't strong enough to throw Brittany up enough yet, and she couldn't just jump from Tina's hands._

_It had to be Brittany, because Tina wouldn't be able to reach the small pulley system perched above the door._

_A pulley system with a rope that their captors used to lower their trey and replace their bathroom bucket._

_The rope she'd use to get Tina up on the ledge with her._

_Then they would get through the door somehow, and leave._

_Together._

_The candle flickered as Brittany hopped out of Tina's held together hands._

_Tina was really close to being able to toss her high enough._

_Really close._

_Brittany could practically feel the ledge in her hands._

_Soon, they'd escape soon._

_"I can't even imagine doing this out in grass, in the sun," Tina said softly._

_Brittany didn't bother to smile -they weren't close enough to the candle for Tina to see it anyway, "It's a lot better although I could be thinking that because I miss the grass and sun. There's a lot of rules. For safety."_

_"Did Coach Sylvester follow them?"_

_"Yeah. You can't compete if you don't, and if you break any rules during competitions, you're disqualified. She would never take the risk."_

_Tina walked carefully towards their bed -a habit they'd taken to once they'd been given the candle, in order to not kill it. She settled on the bed, trying to get comfortable._

_Brittany hoped her sister was comfortable._

_She sighed, and Tina must have heard because she mirrored it, then said, "I wish I'd been a Cheerio. I would have never got on the team, but..."_

_"Anyone can learn to be a cheerleader Tina, you could have made the team if someone taught you. I taught Hannah the whole summer before freshman year, and she really stunk at first. Santana hated it -I think she was jealous of Hannah. "_

_"I wasn't exactly friends with anyone that could have taught me" Tina's voice went a little dreamy, "I can just imagine my mom's face if I asked for a cheerleading tutor..." she sighed again, "I miss my mom and dad."_

_Brittany sat carefully next to Tina, and "I miss mine too."_

_Sometimes she wondered how things would have been if her parents had stayed alive._

_She hoped she wouldn't have still been in this hole, but she'd rather be here then just Tina by herself, or her sister and Sarah or Lord Tubbington and Santana -Lord Tubbington would have ate Santana by day three._

So it wasn't  _totally_  selfish of her if it was something Tina had wanted anyway, and Brittany wasn't hurting anyone by making sure Tina made the team.

Tina would be an 8th grader, but Brittany fully intended on staying her friend, and teaching her a lot during the school year, so that by the time Tina tried out next year she'd be amazing.

"Lord Tubbington can do the splits better then you can Hannah," Brittany shot her friend a smile trying to make her words less mean, "And just because it's April right now doesn't mean we can't practice. Because we practiced so hard, we got on the team, and we looked awesome in our costumes."

"Tina can't even try out until next year," Hannah muttered. She was still wary of Tina, and didn't really like the fact that Tina joined them so much.

On the porch, speaking of him, Lord Tubbington stared at them. His tail flicked at the mention of his name. Brittany was really sure he'd time traveled too because he seemed to know everything she was trying to teach him.

So she was teaching him new things.

Like how to trip people.

Her dad _really_  hated that one.

Brittany figured he could make a zombie fall then it'd be easier for her to kill.

She wanted to kill a lot of zombies.

* * *

Miss Henrietta was frowning on her porch as Rachel and her papa drove up to the house. Pursing her lips, Miss Henrietta stepped forward and had the door open even before LeRoy had put the car in park.

She ducked in, careful not to bump her large hat against the car ceiling, "You are  _late_. I hope our girl gets the part, although Lord knows it will be a trial driving to the city so much. They'd be fools to pass her up," she sighed impatiently as she settled into the front passenger seat, adjusting herself and pulling on her seat belt, then half turned towards Rachel, "Hello Rachel."

Rachel wondered when she had become Miss Henrietta's girl -she could not recall Miss Henrietta ever referring to her with such ownership and pride before, of course, she had barely interacted with her.

"I'm sorry we are late Miss Henrietta, I am afraid it's my fault."

"Well, all that matters is that you are here now Pumpkin." When Miss Henrietta called her pumpkin, LeRoy made eye contact with Rachel through the rear view window, nodding slightly at her. Clearly, he was trying to convey that if she had a problem with Miss Henrietta using LeRoy's term of endearment for her, to tell him later.

Rachel would keep silent. She did not mind if Miss Henrietta used it along with LeRoy. It would be a fair trade for all the knowledge and skills she was hoping to learn from her great grandmother, and it was certainly nicer then some things she had been called, even by Miss Henrietta herself, before.

"What do we have to look forward to for lunch Miss Henrietta?"

Miss Henrietta snorted, "You mean, did I make that wimpy meal you wanted for your partner? I made baked chicken instead of fried, and cut the butter in half mashed potatoes. I will  _not_ make vegan food, but the rest of the sides are vegetarian if he can't handle that. I promise you LeRoy, he's not going to have a attack after lunch."

"Miss Henrietta, remember how we talked about speaking about Hiram? That goes double when Rachel is with us." LeRoy said carefully, a note of warning in his voice that Rachel rarely heard from him.

Miss Henrietta exhaled slowly through her nose, "Now you know I don't mean anything by it LeRoy. Somehow you two managed to raise a divine girl without a woman's touch, so I suppose Hiram can't be all  _that_  bad."

LeRoy eased into a parking space, then turned the car off. "Well, thank you. I think that is the nicest thing you've ever said about Hiram."

"Well, I hadn't really been able to properly get to know Rachel before, have I?" Miss Henrietta turned towards Rachel, "You are marvelous, Pumpkin. We need to hurry before someone ignores basic common decency and doesn't respect Mildred saving our pew."

She unbuckled her seatbelt, and waited until LeRoy opened her door before exiting the car. She took his arm, and when Rachel joined them, she took Rachel's arm as well. Together, the trio walked through the parking lot.

"This is Rachel, my LeRoy's daughter. Her mother's a Jew, with  _very_  strong genes" was how Miss Henrietta introduced Rachel to anyone who stopped by to speak to her as they made their way through the church towards their seats. Which was practically everyone; Miss Henrietta was apparently  _very_  popular at her church.

Mildred -a tiny, frail looking woman with straw berry blonde hair and an almost comically over sized purse and glasses was waiting for them, sans anyone who 'ignored common decency.'

"This is my Rachel," Miss Henrietta beamed at them both as Rachel stuck out a hand to shake with Mildred, "This is Miss Mildred Fern."

Miss Mildred's grip was surprisingly strong and sturdy as they shook hands and Rachel said pleasantries which was all they had time for before they had to take a seat as the choir entered.

Rachel watched as they entered in a swarm, her arms wrapped around herself as she forced herself to take even, deep breaths.

The choir were not zombies. She was okay. Finally, she closed her eyes until the first notes of the first song started.

She immediately noticed Mercedes. An young looking, alive, trying to be noticed despite her position in the choir, Mercedes.

Rachel smiled, and found herself enjoying the show as much as she could. It helped to focus on Mercedes

"They're quite a lovely choir," Rachel whispered to Miss Henrietta, who beamed at her as the choir exited the stage to make way for a too smiley preacher.

Rachel tuned out the sermon; listening just enough to be able to comment on it should anyone ask her what she thought. She was trying not to think about anything; not the future, not tomorrow and junior high, not Quinn, not the others, not the end of the world, not the fear that she would lose her dads so quickly, so needlessly again.

Nothing.

It was easier with the preacher's gravelly voice as background noise then attempting to do so at home; for that reason alone coming today had been worth it and would likely, if she had the time, ensure she would return.

Before Rachel knew it, they were driving back to the Berry home to pick up Hiram - Miss Mildred had declined to join them for their meal.

Miss Henrietta asked Rachel a few questions about what she thought of the sermon during the drive and Rachel answered to her satisfaction then Miss Henrietta moved onto gossiping with LeRoy about their fellow church goers, which continued ever after they picked up a blank looking Hiram and drove to Miss Henrietta's home.

Soon, they were seated at the table awkwardly on their best behavior.

"Now make sure you all save room for rhubarb pie. It's a secret family recipe," Miss Henrietta beamed at them, then added, "Rachel remind me to teach you it, it's the sure fire way to a man's heart. That's how I cinched things with your great grandfather; rest his soul."

Rachel finished chewing on her bite of mashed potatoes, then asked, "Will it work on women's hearts as well?" She had no idea if Quinn liked rhubarb.

Miss Henrietta stiffened, "Well, I suppose it would; I'm afraid I wouldn't know for sure. Does...do you want it too?"

"Theoretically, yes. I am bisexual." She said this more to her dads then her great grandmother. It had been one thing to realize and admit it to herself, but she hadn't quite admitted it to her fathers, deciding the best way to do so was dramatically when she brought, _if_  she brought, a woman home to meet them.

Some part of her had worried they would be disappointed in her; that by being bisexual she was feeding into the ugliness spouted by bigots about children of gay couples being made gay.

She knew logically it was ridiculous, but still she had held back from telling them, and soon it had been too late.

No more holding back from being honest with those around her...as honest as she could be.

"Well, that certainly is something," was all Miss Henrietta said, a not quite-frown on her face. LeRoy swiftly changed the subject to, Rachel was quite sure he made up, a bit of gossip about someone from their church while Hiram simply reached over, and gave her a hug.

* * *

Later, after Tina and Hannah had gone home, Brittany watched her mom clutched at her purse straps, staring at Brittany and Santana with a frown, "Brittany, we're trusting you to watch your sister. She, and you and Santana, should be in bed by the time we're back which will be no later than three. I expect you to do her routine, and to clean up after yourselves."

Brittany grinned at her, "I know mom. I'm responsible! Lord Tubbington will make sure we clean up after dinner."

Her mother pursed her lips together and a sigh escaped.

She did that a lot, especially when Brittany talked about Lord Tubbington.

"Don't worry Mrs. Pierce, Tiffany's in good hands. I've got more baby cousins then I can count, and I'm always expected to watch them." Santana smiled at Brittany's mom winningly, and her mom relaxed slightly.

"Dear, we need to go," Brittany's dad came down the stairs, tying his tie. He stood next to her mom. Brittany would never get tired of looking at them, doubly so when they were dressed up like they were tonight. Her mom was so pretty, and her dad was so handsome.

Her mom let go of her purse, "Obviously, Tiffany needs to be in bed much earlier then you two. And I meant do her routine for  _her_ , Brittany. Don't forget to-"

Her dad cut her off, "Dear, they'll be fine. Here girls," he pulled out his wallet and handed Brittany some money, "Order some pizza."

"Stephan," her mom sighed, and he grinned at her.

Tiffany had -would have, his smile. Brittany had his nose. They both had his blonde hair instead of their mom's strawberry blonde. Genetics were awesome.

"Santana, don't let Brittany watch any horror movies, they give her nightmares." Her dad added as he gently guided her mom towards the door.

"Have fun!" Brittany called.

"You too!" Her dad said as the door closed. Brittany could hear her mom saying something to him, but couldn't make out the words.

Santana hopped from one foot to the other, and grinned at her, careful not to jostle Tiffany who was in her arms. She pulled up Tiffany's shirt, and blew a raspberry on her stomach.

Tiffany giggled with happiness, finally yelled, "San! San! San!"

Santana looked up at Brittany, grinning, "When's the munchkin go to bed again?"

"She should eat in an hour, then bedtime routine, then bed at eight." Brittany played with her bracelet, nervous about once they were alone. She didn't want to hurt Santana's feelings, but she also really didn't want to do more than kissing; even then she felt icky.

Santana would want to kiss and do other things after Tiffany went to bed, sneaking it in before her parents got home. Brittany felt icky because Santana seemed so young.

So far she had made herself ignore that feeling and keep kissing Santana anyway, holding back from too much more because she didn't want to hurt Santana's heart...but making herself kiss someone she didn't like kissing right now made Brittany feel even ickier.

Santana just seemed so young, and Brittany felt so old. This Santana was not Brittany's Santana any more then Brittany was her Brittany. Too much time and things had happened, and it was a good thing Brittany was so good at pretending.

She wished her Santana was here, and this Santana could go with the Brittany that had been here before Brittany time traveled back in time, where ever that was.

Santana nodded, "What movie did you decide on?"

"Sugar 'n Spice. Bank robbing cheerleaders, just to get us in the mood for tryouts. "

Santana snorted, "That's like four months away, there's other moods we could have before then."

Brittany shrugged, "Lord Tubbington thinks they'll be tough, so it's a good thing we're getting ready so soon."

"Brittany, your cat can not think like that. And-" Santana trailed off as Brittany made a 'come here' then an okay hand motion to Lord Tubbington. He obediently walked towards her, then upon spying the 'okay' motion he sat down.

Brittany twirled her finger, and he stood up, and moved around in a circle the exact number of times she had moved her hand.

"That cat is creepy," Santana snorted, "Your sister isn't though. she's awesome. I totally can't wait to have a baby. Not like, any time soon, my cousin Maria just had a baby and no, definitely don't want one until after college, but one day."

In Santana's arms, Tiffany leaned against Santana's chest, making 'come here' motions towards Lord Tubbington.

A flash of sadness went through Brittany, but she didn't let it stop her from saying, "I want to have at least six of your babies Santana." She shouldn't push Santana so much, but she couldn't help it.

Santana flushed, looking down. Brittany had to contain a sigh; she was just so  _young_.

"I'll order the pizza! Do you think they'll give me some sardines on the side?"

Santana looked up at her through her eyelashes, then smiled. "Maybe if you ask really nicely. I'm assuming they're for the cat."

"Of course, I mean, they aren't bad but he likes them more then I do."

Santana snorted, then sighed, "I wish your mom wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" She knew, of course, what Santana was going to say. This had been an old discussion between them...although, after her parents became zombies, Santana never really talked about them like this.

"Your mom treats you like...she acts like, they both do..." Another reminder at how young Santana was right now, she couldn't come right out and say something like this to her.

"I'm stupid? It's okay."

"It's not. You aren't. "

"I'm pretty sure you called me stupid last week, Santana."

"Well, I'm sorry, but thinking Buffy isn't serious about Satsu was stupid."

"She's going to go right back to Angel."

"No. She's totally gay or bisexual. Sometimes, it takes someone a while to discover who they are...and then even longer to accept it..." Santana trailed off, not daring to look at Brittany.

They hadn't had this argument last time, because Brittany had agreed with Santana about the Buffy Satsu relationship. They'd both been super disappointed when that plot had lead basically nowhere, and was made out to be some sort of experimentation or something.

"I don't mind it Santana, it's okay. And because of it I made a bet with them that if I got straight A's, I'm going to get a dog too."

It hadn't been hard to convince them, despite just getting Lord Tubbington, to promise that if she got straight A's she could get a puppy too.

Brittany had never gotten straight A's before. She was going to this year though. And the next, and the next, and hopefully her parents would keep betting against her.

When you did it a second time, school was really really easy, even when the letters danced across the page and it was hard to pay attention when she had the future on her mind.

She felt a little bad about cheating on the deal with her parents, but then she'd look at her sister, and she wouldn't feel bad any more.

The dog would be more for her then Brittany anyway.

Brittany hadn't decided on what kind of dog yet.

Churchill had been a really good dog till the end, so she was leaning towards another German Sheppard, but was going to take her time and really research just in case there was some weird breed specifically bred for the end of the world or something.

"Well, still. It's not right."

Brittany cocked her head to the side, "How is it any different than your family?"

Santana shifted uncomfortably, "Well, it's just different, okay? We're super tough, it weeds out weakness. You, you're too sweet and amazing to have anyone treat you like that, ever, even if it's your mom or dad."

Brittany smiled at her, "And that's why I married you in the future Santana. I think you're amazing too."

Santana looked away from her, a blush barely visible. "Um, I think this kid needs changing. Here," she handed Tiffany to her, their bracelets hitting each other gently.

It was a comforting sound.

* * *

She woke up as the sun rose, curled up in a small ball. Her muscles ached from not having moved in the night, and she was not as well rested as she should be because while she slept, it had been an alert sleep. Even when she had a restful sleep, she had terrible nightmares so it really did not matter because either way she slept terribly.

She took a quick, luke warm shower and dripping wet, brushed then flossed her teeth.

It was finally Saturday. The week had been spent going to school, being bored by school, ensuring that none of Jill's cronies would bother her, (Jill Clark had been expelled, and her middle school had swore to her dads (and their lawyer) that they would retrain the teachers and take bullying much more seriously -it would be district, if not county, wide. Given how incompetent McKinley's staff and board were, Rachel very much did not believe them,) and rushing from one after school activity to another. Her dads had spoken to her about her bisexuality -it was no less then she would have guessed they would do, that they loved her and were proud of her. If she had any friends, they would have likely told her about the new rules that applied to both male and female guests, such as an open door policy and other such measures...but Rachel did not have any friends.

Or at least, not any that were apparently in this time period.

Even then, she wasn't quite sure they were her friends except Sebastian. Tina, perhaps. They were her family, and Quinn her girlfriend.

She had laid awake the night after that conversation, wondering how it was going to work, if they would settle back into being family, being survivors, or if they would attempt to be friends first. It would be foolish to waste time doing things like going to prom or whatever, but they could not jump right into being family again either -that was clear from the first conversation she had with Sam.

She had gone to Miss Henrietta's on Friday, skipping two activities to do so, and helped in her garden as well as getting started learning how to can some of Miss Henrietta's early harvest.

Rachel, in between after her school activities and visiting Miss Henrietta, had also been planning.

She had a notebook filled with thoughts, things that would be useful to learn, and ideas, most of which, she was sure, she would not be able to accomplish.

Even if a two hundred acre private island in a mild climate would make the most  _sense._ She had yet to speak to Sam again, and had a tentative idea to work up a schedule. At the very least, even if they did not have much to talk about, it would be nice to speak to someone who knew what was happening.

She was going to start tracking down the others this weekend; she missed them all so terribly, and it would be easier to plan if it was not simply on her.

"Rachel, Rachel oh it's the most amazing news," Hiram opened her door without knocking, "You got the part. I have no idea how, but darling, you got the part!"

Rachel stood, dripping wet, and stared at him.

Of course, of  _course_ , she finally was able to take that first step towards Broadway, and actually got a fairly good part in a community theater production, something, despite many many auditions, she had never managed to do before.

And it did not matter one bit any more.

Hiram grinned at her, "Finish getting ready darling, you need your classes more than ever today!" Then he happily danced out of the room before she could answer him.

Rachel dressed slowly, trying to come to terms with the words she was going to have to say. It would disappoint her fathers. It would disappoint herself, even if logically she knew that there was no point in doing the musical.

Broadway was no longer in her future.

The smell of walking corpses. The feeling of hunger. Knowing that today was the day she could lose someone she cared about.

That was her future.

She walked downstairs, and slid into a chair at the breakfast table. Starla quickly sat herself down at Rachel's feet.

"You cannot make me do this," Rachel said quietly, staring at the table instead of at either of her fathers. At her feet, Starla was curled up snoring softly.

"Rachel, darling," Hiram's was a mixture of excitement, and confusion.

"I do not want to accept the part daddy, papa," the words hurt Rachel to say, to think. The part of her that was still the girl she had been apparently was somewhere deep inside her, because she felt like sobbing.

Naturally, when she knew what the future entailed, that was when she finally,  _finally_  earned a part in community theater.

Hiram shook is head, "I do not understand you Rachel. One day, you were happily taking your classes and practicing your vocals. The next, you are ready to turn down the biggest opportunity of your life, after all the money and work put into getting you ready for Broadway. Has Miss Henrietta been putting these thoughts in your head?"

"Hiram," LeRoy said patiently, "She's growing up. She's allowed to change her mind about what she wants to do with her life. For years I wanted to be a milkman, then I turned seven and decided I wanted to be a fireman. She, for as brilliant as our daughter is, is just a child and her future isn't set in stone."

"That's not the same thing LeRoy, and you know it. She's been training for Broadway since before she could walk!"

"And maybe we pushed her into it? Maybe it's not what our Pumpkin actually wanted to do with her life. So many try and fail to be stars on Broadway, it's not an easy life Hiram. Let her choose what she wants to do."

Hiram stood there, breaking deeply. Finally, he stared at Rachel, "Accept this part, do this show. If you don't love it, you can quit. But I think we both know, Rachel Barbra Berry, that you'll love it because you, darling, were _made_  for the stage."

Rachel felt hot tears well up in her eyes as she nodded.

They were tears of frustration, tears of anger -and tears of relief. Because a part of her wanted to do this show, to show the world what Rachel Barbra Berry could do. She just could not have justified it to herself, but Hiram giving her no choice was easy to say when Santana and the others came back and asked why she'd wasted time doing this.

"What about the classes you are currently taking Pumpkin," LeRoy asked after they watched Hiram leave the room.

"I would like to drop them all, except Madam Luve's dance class. And I think I would like to take other classes, though."

Madam Luve's class was tough, it would keep her flexible and agile until she figured out a better alternative, preferably with the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to follow stunt casting for any of the gleek's parents so Brittany's aren't as shown on the show, same as Rachel's dads - this required changing Mr. Pierces first name.
> 
> Brittany's going to keep making comments and stuff about knowing/being from the future; she's basically the only character who can get away with that without being taken seriously or tossed in a mental health faculty and I am going to take full advantage of that. :D
> 
> Next chapter we'll get a small time skip to around the Rachel & Brittany meeting, and then things are really going to take off.
> 
> Remember to follow my tumblr, Gee13, https://gee13.tumblr.com/ for cut scenes, art, chapter update status, general writing stuff, glee fandom stuff, and things like peeks of other work. Followers got an additional, different sneak peek of this chapter. (You can also add tumblrs to your RSS reader if you don't have a tumblr and see posts that way.)


	3. Sit Down You're Rockin The Boat

Rachel stood with her back to the wall, watching her fellow actors and actresses chat amongst themselves as they started to take their exit.

 

Rachel would leave last, or next to last.

 

The director -Connie, as she insisted everyone call her, gestured for Rachel to come to her. Rachel held back a sigh, and stepped lightly towards the older woman, keeping a watchful eye on the doors.

 

Just in case...if there was anything to be concerned about happening outside, even this _soon_ , she wanted to be ready. The knife -along with a canister of pepper spray was in her backpack, and she dearly wished she could wear it instead of keeping it hidden in her bag.

 

"Rachel Berry, this, " Connie gestured casually to the woman standing in front of her, "This is my friend Susan Pak. Ms. Pak is on the selection committee for the Redford School of Arts.

 

"R.S.A is one of the highest rated private high schools -it's where the cream of the crop are found. In our fifty six years of being active, we have yet to have a graduate not get into their first choice of college -Julliard especially loves us." Ms. Pak stared strongly at Rachel -and when Rachel refused to look away, she shot a smile over her head at Connie. "She was even better then you had led me to believe."

 

Connie smiled, "She's amazing. Shouldn't your parents be here soon Rachel."

 

Rachel shook her head, "Not on Tuesdays -I take the bus."

 

That had been a fight, but she'd managed to keep herself calm long enough to make her dads see reason -there was simply no way for them to take her to the six o'clock rehearsals on Tuesday without it affecting their jobs.

 

Once she had her way, she'd gone into her room and screamed into a pillow, then cried for a bit.

 

She absolutely _hated_ having to go through all this again -learning to handle her emotions and the sudden surge of hormones causing them had been difficult enough, but now she had the delightful added benefit of _knowing_ she was being illogical and silly but being unable to do much about it.

 

"Well, I think maybe I can drop in on rehearsals...Saturday?" Ms. Pak asked Connie who nodded. Ms. Pak grinned, then continued, "Saturday. I think we have a lot to speak about -you are starting high school next year right?"

 

Rachel's stomach dropped, "Yes...yes I am." She swallowed hard, and forced herself to politely add, as much as a part of her was screaming not to, "I am sorry Ms. Pak, but if you are implying you would like to speak to my parents about my attending R.S.A. next year and the years following, I am afraid that attending Saturday's rehearsals as well as today's was a waste of your time." She took a deep breath, and finished in a rush, "I am not planning on continuing on the stage, so while I am sure it would be wonderful and I would learn so very much, I would not wish to waste your time nor take the place of someone who would benefit more from the school."

 

Connie frowned, but Ms. Pak merely handed Rachel her card, said a curt, "Please call if you change your mind," then she and Connie stepped away.

 

Rachel took the opportunity to sling her backpack on and make her exit. It was a two hour bus ride to and from Columbus and Lima, and not only did riding the bus during the weekday mean that her father's could work normally, it saved money in fuel, and it gave Rachel _much_ needed time to herself. They would pick her up at the bus station, and she was quite certain Hiram called the bus terminal to ensure she'd gotten on the bus each time.

 

The sun was starting to set, and Rachel started lightly jogging -the theater was near the bus station, one of the reasons her father's agreed to allow her to ride it so it took only minutes for her to leave rehearsals and get on the bus back.

 

She pushed herself in those few minutes, not bothering to blink back the tears.

 

By the time she'd arrived at the bus station, she was barely panting -the running she did in the morning, sometimes with either or both dads, was clearly doing what she wanted it to do. In addition to the morning running, and weight lifting, she did yoga and pilates classes with Hiram and LeRoy respectively. She wanted to be agile, strong, and quick.

Gone were the singing lessons, gone were the dance classes -except one, that started this week, gone was piano lessons, gone was the intricate morning routine that was still in its infancy.

 

Every rehearsal, every moment on stage, every second she spent singing -it felt like she was being stabbed in the heart.

 

She was utterly _thriving_ in rehearsals and Connie introducing her to Ms. Pak was proof, hard tangible proof that she had _not_ been egotistical, fed with delusions of stardom from her father's since she was a toddler.

She, Rachel Berry was _meant_ to be a star.

 

And it was just her fate that this world had no _need_ of Broadway starlet's. It needed people who had what it took to survive what was coming.

 

Soon she was seated on the bus, posture and the way she sat a clear indication that she would not be welcoming of anyone sitting next to her.

 

She wiped at the last traces of tears on her face, adjusted her sweater, and pulled out a notebook to check her schedule.

 

Tomorrow she would join Miss Henrietta straight after school for a trip to the army surplus store, canning lessons and to work on Miss Henrietta's herb garden. She'd be home in time to make dinner for her dads, then after that she and LeRoy had pilates.

 

She needed to slip away from her great grandmother, or leave school a bit early tomorrow, to refill her sleeping pills.

 

Twice.

Twice she dreamed such terrible dreams that she woke up her fathers in the middle of the night.

They were whispering about therapists -she did not start therapy until the summer before sophomore year, and had no plans to start it again, despite the looming apocalypse she was _fine_ , all things considering, so she decided to simply sleep lightly.

That lasted approximately six nights, before she gave up on that idea. It was unsustainable, and frankly foolish to purposely not get enough restful sleep she needed.

Rachel turned to sleeping pills, loath as she was to rely on them.

Often times she only ended up being needed for one of the rehearsals -Hiram was fastidious about ensuring she was needed to rehearse before she made her journey to Cleveland.

She was quite busy.

Sometimes, the guilt for wasting time with the musical woke her up at night, chest tight, a nightmare still flashing in her mind.

She was enjoying it.

If she was honest, she was utterly thriving in the community theater environment. If the world wasn't going to end, she was learning so many things, honing skills, and making connections that would have surely set her on an easier path to Broadway.

It truly was like rubbing salt in a scarred wound -she was wasting her time with the musical, accomplishing nothing but torturing herself.

Sam kept reassuring her that it was okay if she did the musical, no one was going to be disappointed in her for doing something for herself like this.

His reassurances did not help much.

She made sure to speak to him at least once a week; often times the conversations did not last more than ten minutes, but she felt it was important that they keep in touch, they keep what connection they had. With Sam being so far separated from her, in distance, time, and their personal relationship such as it was, Rachel always felt moderately awkward speaking to him; the lingering guilt about Stacy's death, despite their conversation about it later where Sam had reassured her he did not blame her, did not help matters -even if sometimes in their conversation she could hear Stacy shrieking or giggling or otherwise making her presence known in the background. It added a surreal quality to Rachel's day, every time, because she could not escape seeing her finale image of Stacy out of the corner of her eye. It set her nerves on edge, ramped up her paranoia...she was trying to find the words to tell Sam, to ask him to find a more private place to speak to her, but she had yet to manage it.

She sighed as the bus started up, and pressed her forehead to the seat in front of her, pulling her sweater close to her.

* * *

 

Dr. Allen was dead.

Rachel had found several news articles about how Dr. Allen had suddenly veered into traffic while driving last year and, crashed head first on into a road divider. She had died instantly. No drugs or alcohol had been found in her system, and the investigators had written it up to Dr. Allen having some unknown health issue, such as a seizure.

Rachel assumed Dr. Allen had come _back,_ and it was just unfortunate timing she had done so while driving.

Rachel blew a puff of hair that had loosened itself from one of her two Dutch braids, and darted her eyes to Hiram. He was next to her, red faced and glistening with a sheen of sweat and slightly wobbling as he struggled to stay balanced in a proper tree pose.

They attended yoga together twice a week, on Fridays at four (with Hiram leaving work early -one of the benefits of being your own boss) and Sundays at nine am. Her dads had insisted, when she'd dropped all her vocal lessons and dance classes except one, that she have some activity besides the musical -she had finally decided that unless something better presented itself, she would take pilates and yoga -one each with her dads so the classes could do double duty as bonding time.

She had greatly simplified her morning routine, and added running to it, and sometimes one or both of her dads joined her in that as well.

That past month had sped by quickly, and school would be out in two short weeks. Her schedule, even with the musical, would be much more flexible now, as her dads had decided at thirteen she was old enough to stay home alone while they worked, and she planned to take full advantage to complete tasks without a parent looking over her shoulder.

She was _quite_ busy. This was why she had yet to make contact with Sebastian -he had not logged into his Myspace account for months. June, likewise, was unavailable -short of making a trip to the compound she lived on, and Rachel was certainly not going to do that.

Miss Henrietta had taken her shooting yesterday afternoon -it had been lovely to have the rifle in her hands again. She was dreadfully out of practice, of course, however, not as badly as she could have been.

Miss Henrietta was a better shot then Rachel was. Which was, quite amazing considering the woman's age...of course, that could have been Rachel being ageist.

The piece of hair was in her face again, and once more she blew it away.

Finally, the instructor called out to them. Ten minutes later, a quickly showered Rachel was standing with Hiram waiting for LeRoy to pick them up. Rachel had Madam Luve's dance class next.

"Your father doesn't seem to notice, but perhaps you do -or perhaps I am simply imagining it," Hiram stared at Rachel expectantly, "You spend the most time with her. Does Starla seem stiffer and a bit slower to you?"

Rachel sighed, "Yes, actually." This was it, the beginning of Starla's end. In a few short months, she would have her stroke.

Hiram looked triumphant. "I knew it. We shall take her to the vet first thing Monday morning. Although, maybe a visit to the emergency vet tonight would be in order..."

"Daddy, I'm sure that would be unnecessary," Rachel said, her voice going thick with emotion, "She is simply...getting older," Rachel finished, sniffling a bit. She simply _hated_ not having much control over her emotions.

"Oh darling, Starla has years left, you're right I am sure. We'll take her in on Monday, I imagine she will just need some new vitamins or a supplement." Hiram wrapped an arm around her, and hugged her close.

* * *

 

Brittany gripped the string, and pulled it back, before letting go and sending her arrow soaring. It bounced off the target instead of sticking. Santana giggled.

"Please don't laugh at me Santana," Brittany pouted, and sighed, "I want to be really good at using this so I won't have to use a gun because I don't like them."

Santana grinned at her, "If the apocalypse happens I'll be like, a kick ass war lord. You'll always be welcome in my lands Brittany."

"What about Beth or Quinn or Rachel or Tina? And being a war lord would be too much paperwork, that's why Lord Tubbington quit."

"I have no idea who Beth or Quinn or Rachel are, Britts." Santana stepped forward, and shot her bow. The arrow landed halfway between them and the target. "Look, if the apocalypse happens, we can just get a lot of guns. Guns are way better."

Brittany shook her head, "Guns are loud, we'd need quiet sneaky stuff. I don't like them anyway."

Santana sighed, and put another arrow on her bow. She pulled it back, then let it go. It hit the edge of the target. Brittany felt a little better. Santana turned to her, "Look, if this is a super big deal to you, we can practice a lot. Somehow, we'll find the time."

"Maybe I can convince Coach Sylvester the Cheerios need to learn to learn to fight with a bow and arrow." Brittany frowned, wondering if that would work - Coach _did_ believe some weird things, it might work. The thought of all the Cheerios wielding bows like Amazons, even the boys, loosened up something in her chest that was always tight with worry.

"We haven't even made the team yet Brittany," Santana flicked her hair.

Brittany grinned at her. They would make the team, and it was a good plan. It was a plan that Rachel or Quinn would have come up with. Feeling much better now, Brittany made another shot, once more sticking it into the edge of the target, "How old do you think Tiffany should be before we teach her how to use one of these?"

"Um. Well, why don't we let her learn to speak in full sentences and junk first before we start talking about teaching her to use a bow?"

Brittany giggled, "Okay."

Santana smirked, then nodded down the line of targets, "That kid looks pretty young, however old he is."

Brittany looked, "He's like five? That seems okay."

 Santana made another shot, getting closer to the center then before. She tossed a smirk at Brittany, then said, "I bet Hannah couldn't do that good."

"I don't know. She might, after some practice."

Santana frowned, then tossed her hair in a gesture that sent a pang of sadness through Brittany, "Patrick asked me out, I think I'm going to say yes. You know I loves me some Breadstix."

"He's a ginger Santana. You always say they have no souls."

" _Well, he doesn't need a soul to buy me dinner, does he?"_ Brittany wasn't a jealous person by nature, not really. She knew Santana was only doing this because she _was_ jealous. Or envious. Brittany always confused them. It was easy to remind herself that this Santana wasn't her Santana, not really, not yet.

Brittany shrugged, _"If you kiss him, you're going to wake up the next morning with red hair."_

Santana made a face at the thought, then took another shot before she said, "Your Spanish is like, way better. It's almost like you woke up one day and it clicked or something."

"No, I woke up one day with years more experience with it, from the future. Duh."

Santana rolled her eyes, "You don't have to keep talking like that when it's just me and you."

"It's true though. You'll see."

"Whatever. Dork."

"If I'm a dork, then I'm _your_ dork." She wanted so badly to tell Santana that she loved her, that she understood Santana wasn't ready to accept that part of herself -that she would _wait._ She wanted to tell Santana that she would wait, that if she was ready or not, she would force herself to admit out loud that she loved Brittany too once the world ended. That she told Brittany in thousands of ways before she said the words out loud.

"Yeah, you are." Santana trailed off, and clearly uncomfortable with what she just said, changed the subject. "Um. We have what, two months until Cheerio tryouts?"

"We have five weeks, that's like, way less than two months."

"I guess Hannah's okay enough she'll make the team with us," Santana took another shot, "Are you sure you're done with Motocross."

"Yeah. I'm like super good at it and I already won all the trophies I could for it so I don't need to do it anymore. Plus it was really loud."

"I'm going to miss going to your races though. You looked hella hot."

"You couldn't even see me, like me me with all my gear on."

"Still. I totally heard all kinds of guys and this one old dude saying how hot you were."

"Eww."

Santana snorted, "Yeah, I told him he was old enough to be your great grandma then asked if that was his white windowless van in the parking lot. He looked like he was going to cry, it was great."

"Speaking of vans, dad was talking to one of our neighbors about this goody van they've had sitting forever? He said they were selling it."

"The white and black VW down the road?"

"Yeah. So I'm thinking of asking if they'll buy it for me."

"You could fit a mattress in the back of it?" Santana had a slightly dreamy look on her face, that she must have realized she had because she quickly glared at the target, then shot it, and added, "or when we go shopping it'll hold like, everything."  

Brittany liked the idea of having a van that would hold a lot of stuff and they could stay in if needed; she hadn't had her own car before.

"Yeah. I think it'd be fun to work on. I want to paint the black part pink."

"Mmm. I'd rather having someone topless." Santana blushed, "I mean, some _thing_ topless. Like a corvette."

"By the time I finish fixing it up, I'll be old enough to get my learner's permit."

"It'll be nice not to have to rely on people to give us rides."

"Yeah," Brittany grinned, " _I'm super excited to go to your grandma's for dinner."_

_"I'm worried you're going to get lost, there's going to be so many people there."_ Santana replied.

_"Does she like me?"_

_"As much as she likes anyone, although I think she's warmed up slightly since you showed her that blanket you're knitting, she was impressed."_ Brittany was working on a knit blanket for Tiffany's bed. She had plans to make them all one. _"Um, that woman is staring at us. Do you think we look weird. Like do you think she thinks we're on a date or something? Like, maybe we look really butch?"_ Santana looked like she was about to toss her bow and arrows away, and go make out with the nearest guy.

Brittany turned to look at the woman, _"I know her. She knows me, that's why she's looking at us, she doesn't think we're super gay and half gay and going to be married one day or anything Santana."_

It was Terri.

For a second, Brittany debated with herself about saying anything to her, but then decided to go ahead and do it anyway. Even if she wasn't back like Brittany, it'd still be nice to talk to her.

"Let's go say hi to her," Brittany said, slinging her bow on and picking up her bag.

Santana had relaxed, a little. "Whatever. We should get going soon anyway. How do you know her?" Santana slung her own backpack on, and flicked her hair while making eye contact with some guy who was walking by. She winked at him, then pointedly didn't look at Brittany as they started walking towards Terri."

"She's just a friend."

"Why are you friends with an old lady?"

"She's not old. Or not that old anyway." Terri looked way younger then Brittany remembered, she was a little plumper too -they all were, though, but some of Terri's harshness had softened and she was definitely slightly less high strung looking.

"Brittany?" Terri asked hesitantly.

"Terri!" Brittany dropped her things, and rushed forward, engulfing Terri in a hug. She wasn't alone! It wasn't on her, and her alone to figure out how to help everyone!

"Santana, this is Terri Del Monico," Brittany said when she pulled apart from Terri, "Terri, this is Santana. She doesn't know you yet."

"I see," Terri looked Santana over, then turned to Brittany, "And it's Schuster, remember Brittany? I'm married," she flashed the ring at both teens, then  Terri cleared her throat, and nodded at Santana.

"Um, Santana, can you go to the front desk and ask when the next archery competition is?" Brittany said.

Santana gave her a suspicious look, "That's going to take like, ten minutes, there's a long ass line."

"I know. I want to talk to Terri about Lord Tubbington's surprise party, but I can't do that with you standing here because he knows you so well he'll figure it out just by looking at you."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Brittany, "Whatever, I wanted to flirt with that guy anyway."

Brittany sighed at Santana walked away, then turned to Terri. "You're you, right?"

"Well, who else would I be Brittany?" Terri shook her head, "How long have you been back?"

"210 days."

"I see. I've been back over two years now."

"Why didn't you look for any of us?"

"Well, I was busy ensuring my marriage is strong...and then, I found out I was pregnant."

"Really?"

Terri nodded.

"Wasn't that scary?"

"Yes. But also much easier this time, given that my only company wasn't teenagers, I was able to give birth in a hospital, and we aren't constantly terrorized by flesh eating monsters. Oliver is a twelve months old, and he's just amazing. Will is a great father." Terri smiled, and it made her face light up. "But of course, being a wife and mother is not all I've been doing. I went back to school -nursing. I've also dropped all my crafting hobbies in favor of much more practical ones, namely guns and the bow, and I'm considering learning to throw knives."

Brittany looked at her in awe, "That's so cool. You're like, Rambo, except a mom. Mombo?"

"Well, I'm not doing it to be cool Brittany, but thank you. I decided that if I was bringing a child into this world, knowing what was going to happen, then I was going to do my best to ensure he or she survived, even if that means going back to school or never scrap booking again."

"What's Mr. Schue think? Did you...tell him?"

"Don't be silly, of course I didn't tell him. That's a one way ticket to being hospitalized with the crazies, and letting that red haired husband stealing neat freak tell my child she's his new mommy. No, Will simply thinks motherhood has changed me a bit. He's willing to go hunting with me, so we bond that way, and I've encouraged him to take up fishing again."

Brittany bounced happily on her toes, "We should get each others phone numbers, and talk and plan and -"

"Do keep in mind I am in school most of the week, and when I am not in school I'm studying or doing homework in addition to my time at the shooting range or here," Terri smiled that odd smile she was always giving Brittany before, "And that I have a toddler and a husband, so we'll have to schedule things carefully. I'm not sure that _we_ will be able to accomplish much more then what we are already done." She reached into her large purse, and pulled out a notepad. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, (Terri frowned as she realized Brittany didn't have a cell phone yet), and by the time Santana came back, Terri was gone.

"That guy was such a nerd," Santana declared, "He sooo wasn't worth the time. Is your weird adult friend gone?"

"Yeah. Should we go too?"

"Nah, your dad won't be here for another twenty minutes to pick us up, I checked the time at the desk," Santana hesitated, then added, looking up at Brittany through her lashes "Can you help me with my stance?"

Brittany wanted to tell Santana she wasn't fooling Brittany, this was just an excuse to get closer, but she bit her tongue. Literally, lightly, not hard enough to draw blood or anything.

Tongue tingling with pain, she nodded quietly.

She didn't want to scare Santana away forever, but it was so hard not to fall back into old routines, old mannerism, casual touches and words. She sighed, and picked up her things at her feet, "Let's go? I think we forgot to pick up our arrows anyway."

Santana started talking about American Idol, and Brittany tuned her out. She already knew who was going to win, so it wasn't hard to pretend to be listening.

Her first dance class with Rachel was today. It was going to be the first real thing she was going to change -being friends with Rachel before high school started.

It was also going to be the hardest, because she and Rachel weren't really all that close or anything, and if she was being _really_ honest, she hadn't really liked Rachel as a person before the world ended. Like, at all.

 After a lot of thinking about it, she'd decided that she and Rachel hadn't even been friends when they'd died. Family, yes, friends, no.

Rachel was like the second cousin who was related to her but not closely so it was still legal for her to marry Brittany's sister. Her sister, in this scenario, being Quinn. Who was like, Santana's step sister so it was okay that Brittany married Santana because they weren't related.

She'd made a chart, and everything, and all the lines had gotten really tangly.

The point was, it was a good thing Brittany was a super good actress, because Rachel Berry before the zombies hadn't been a person Brittany liked, so it was going to be a lot of effort for her to be friends with her.

"Are you sure you can't skip your dance class? Do you really need it?"

"Positive. Lord Tubbington will hide my pillows."

"But we could go see Iron Man."

Brittany shook her head, her pony tail whipping around, "No. I'll see you tomorrow for practice with Hannah and then I'm going to dinner with you, we'll have lots of time together. And even more when summer's here."

Santana frowned, staring at the ground as they walked, and finally nodded. "Can't you tell Hannah it's canceled?"

"Noo, she needs the practice too. So does Tina, but not as much and she's got a family thing all week anyway."

"It just seems like we never spend any time together without one or both of them," Santana grumbled, then glared at an older guy who was about to step into 'their' archery course.

"We are laterally together without anyone right now," Brittany said as the guy silently shrugged, and kept walking, "Now come here, and I'll help fix your posture."

Santana brightened up a little, and grinned so that her braces were fully visible, which she only did when she was really happy, " _Literally_ , Brittany....Do you want to come over for Memorial day next week? We can just swim and listen to music, it should be warm enough, and we'll have the place to ourselves."

 "Maybe? I'm not sure if mom and dad have plans for us, but it sounds good." Brittany gestured for Santana to turn around, and once she did, Brittany cuddled close to her. She missed this so much. She helped arranged Santana's arms, then they both pretended that it was vital for Brittany to stand so close behind Santana for a second, a moment of mutual pretending, before she stepped back and let Santana shoot her arrow.

She hit the target, just barely. Brittany bounced up and down, clapping as Santana notched another arrow clumsily, her eyes on Brittany's chest.

Watching Santana trying to be subtle, and utterly failing, about watching Brittany's boobs made Brittany feel a little less nervous about seeing and befriending Rachel later, even as a fresh ache for _her_ Santana went through her.

* * *

 

She scribbled in her notebook, and before she knew it, the changing room was nearly empty.

Just she and Brittany, actually.

She was closing her locker when Brittany approach, nervously fiddling with the straps of her dance tote, a shy grin on her face as her eyes darted back and forth in the room.

"Hi, I'm Brittany S. Pierce and my cat, Lord Tubbington, deleted the message I left for my dad to pick me up," Brittany said, "Can you give me a ride? I'd leave another message, but I'm pretty sure Lord Tubbington would just delete it again. He's on an anti-technology kick. You're Rachel Berry, right? Madam Luve told me if I get confused I should watch you."

Rachel frowned up at her, confused. This did not happen before, she was certain. She took a moment to adjust her sweater.

"Rachel? Is that you?" Brittany asked softly, her dance tote slipped from her fingers.

"I was quite certain we did not share this class," Rachel said softly, not quite sure she believed this was real.

"We didn't, I dropped it because I was busy with getting ready for Cheerio's and Madam Luve said she'd taught me everything she could," Brittany grinned, "But I took it this time because I wanted to be friends with you so that you wouldn't be bullied so badly this time."

Rachel grinned up at her. They stared at each other for a moment, before Rachel stood up, and wrapped her arms around the taller girl.

"Um. I'm really glad you're you," Brittany said as they hugged, "I like _you_ a lot better than the before before you."

Rachel had quite forgotten Brittany had not liked her. Then again, most people did not.

"Can you come over to my house? I wasn't lying about not having a ride, and my parents are doing a thing later so I'll have to babysit and can't come over to your house?"

Rachel nodded, "I do not think that should be an issue, as long as one of my dads can meet your parents first."

Brittany smiled, and nodded. She slung an arm around Rachel's shoulders, and gave her another squeeze. "I'm seriously glad you're back. Today has been a really good day, I found out Terri's back too."

"She is? How is she?" Certain things Rachel wished to accomplish would be much easier with an adult available.  

"Like really good. She's got a toddler with Mr. Schue, and she's in college to be a nurse and she's learning to use a bow too. You should also, it's way better then a gun."

"Papa and Daddy should be here soon, let's go meet them in front?" Rachel stepped away, and picked up her bag, "I agree, though, it will be beneficial to use a bow. I will inform Sam to do so as well."

"Sam's back too?"

"Yes...." Rachel licked her lips, unsure how to say it, before deciding not to sugar coat it, "He came back when he was seven...the result is that he has an extra sibling, and Stevie was never born."

Brittany stared at Rachel as she picked up her bag, "That is so sad. I feel really bad for him. Like I can't even imagine if I butterfly effected Tiffany out of the world."

"He says that he doesn't feel that bad about it -that Stevie feels like a book character at this point," Rachel sighed, "I am unsure if he was telling the truth when he told me that, or not."

Brittany nodded, leading them out of the changing room towards the front of the building. They waved at Madam Luve as they passed her, and she gave them a little wave back as she spoke rapidly into her phone in French.

"If Santana were here," Brittany sighed, "She'd be able to really get him to open up."

"I wish we were all here, it would make things much more simpler," Rachel adjusted her bag, then nodded at the approaching vehicle, "That would be my dads."

"They are like, _really_ puncture." 

"We both know you mean punctual Brittany. Please do not pretend to be dumb. I know you are not, and while I am sure you have your reasons for doing so, I ask that you do not when it is just me and you, or with the others." Rachel frowned at Brittany.

 Brittany stared at her, then nodded once as the car parked in front of them, and the passenger window rolled down.

"Rachel," Hiram sang out to her, "Great news darling! You do not need to be at rehearsals tomorrow!"

"That is excellent Daddy!" Rachel chirped, then gestured elegantly at Brittany, "This is Brittany Pierce. We will be going to the same high school next year. If you and her parents find it acceptable, may we have a sleepover at her house tonight?" Rachel was grateful she did not have to lie -it was difficult to do to her dads, and she was nearly certain half the time they could tell anyway.

"I have to babysit my little sister, otherwise we could totally do it at your house, Rachel said you have a basement. Basements are really cool, I wish we had one." Brittany added.

Her fathers exchanged quick glances, silently communicating in a way that made Rachel wish for Quinn, and for the time for them to _have_ that kind of connection. Then Hiram nodded, "I think that can be arranged."

"Oh, um, can I have a ride home too? Sorry." Brittany added.

LeRoy nodded, and the girls quickly climbed into the backseat.

Rachel could not stop thinking about how they had gone from two, to _four_. This would mean they needed to arrange a time for the four of them, obviously with Sam on the telephone, to meet up. Now that it was more then she and Sam, they could really start planning. Brittany's suggestion of them learning to use a bow was a good one -the brief time Rachel had used one before she had appreciated their practicality.

Soon, after Brittany gave directions, they were pulling in front of her house.

"Mom, dad, I brought home Berrys!" Brittany called as they followed her into the house.

" _What_ did you bring home Brittany?" A frowning strawberry blonde woman asked, presumably Brittany's mother, "Oh, hello. I'm Whitney Pierce, my husband Stephan is still getting ready."

"I'm LeRoy, this is my husband Hiram Berry." All three Berry's watched Whitney's face closely as he sad that, then LeRoy added, "And this is our daughter, Rachel." Introducing Rachel was a good indicator that he felt Brittany's mom was not going to have an issue with the Berry family.

"Mom, can Rachel help me watch Tiffany and sleep over?"

"Well...I suppose, if it's okay with her dads. No one else though, even Santana."

"Okay."

"Is it okay Daddy, Papa?" Rachel gave them her best 'please please please' look. It still felt rusty to use.

They shared another look, and then finally LeRoy said, "Well, I suppose since it's okay with Brittany's parents."

"Is Rachel allergic to anything?" Whitney asked.

"No, she is not. Um, darling, why don't we head home so you can get your sleepover things," Hiram suggested. A burst of love went through her for him at his words -he knew full well as she did this was her first and only sleep ever.

"Rachel can totally just wear some of my things, even if she's almost little person short," Brittany said.

Rachel had almost missed the subtle putdowns from Brittany that had tapered off as time went on, all but disappearing after the ordeal she and Tina had returned to them. _Almost._

"I am quite okay with borrowing some of Brittany clothing," Rachel pulled her bag close, and wondered if this was a mistake.

She did not _know_ Brittany's parents, and this was her first sleep over -what if she did something wrong? What if the batteries weren't working on the fire alarms?

A tiny blonde toddler sped into the room on wobbly legs, "Brttttt!" She shouted, and Brittany scoped her up.

  
"This is my sister Tiffany," she introduced her to Rachel's dads, "She is almost smarter than my cat, Lord Tubbington. He keeps trying to get her to drink coffee so she'll stay tiny forever."

Her dads shared another look, another one that Rachel could not quite decipher.

"If you're sure you will be okay Rachel..."

"I will be fine. I love you both very much," Rachel dropped her bag, and gave each of her dads a hug, "Perhaps you could go see the movie you were thinking about seeing for date night -have an unscheduled date night."

"An unscheduled date night, as if we were young men again," Hiram smiled at LeRoy.  

"We are still young men Rammy, we have full heads of hair to prove it," LeRoy reached over, and took Hiram's hand. A warm feeling went through her as she watched them. Goodness, she loved them so much -how could she have ever thought she'd feel this way about Shelby? That she deserved to feel this way about a third person, when she already had two amazing parents? What a selfish child she had been before.   

After saying yet another round of goodbyes, then being introduced to Brittany's father, and Hiram receiving just a few more reassurances that Rachel would be okay, then a final round of goodbyes, Hiram trying to linger before LeRoy whispered something to him, still holding hands, her dads left.

"We should be going too dear, " Stephan Pierce said, then turned to Brittany, "Don't let Tiffany stay up late this time Brittany."

"She and Lord Tubbington played poker after I went to bed."

Rachel watched Brittany's mom frown, sigh, then started listing a laundry list of orders for Brittany, half of which was just common sense. Rachel had no idea how anyone, especially her own mother, could not see just how intelligent Brittany was.

Finally, the adult Pierces left. "Um. Come on, I'll show you my room." Brittany said, and still holding her sister, starting walking upstairs.

Rachel grabbed Brittany's bag as well as her own, and followed her.

Soon, they were seated on Brittany's very beige carpet staring at each other. Tiffany happily banged some blocks together next to them, making noises that were almost full words, with the occasional real word thrown in. Rachel watched the toddler for a minute, "It is quite odd to see her now, and remember her as a fully fledged child."

"Kids do that. They grow up." Brittany leaned back against the pale floral wallpaper covered wall, "Or at least, they usually do."

Rachel looked away, and closed her eyes.

Dahlia giggling and tugging at Blaine's hair.

Christopher snuggled close to Rachel as they slept.

Beth glaring at Quinn.

Abby obediently fetching a toy Santana tossed for her.

Tiffany curled up with Lord Tubbington, coloring.

Kyle and Stevie playing chess.

Leah being passed from person to person as the rest of them tried to let Terri get some sleep.

Sarah with her Hebrew to English dictionary, diligently copying down words in a pretty notebook Santana got for her.

Stacy's corpse, skin already starting to turn red, black fluid leaking from her mouth and eyes, snarling as she reached out to claw at Stevie.

Bringing the hatchet down onto her, blood and other fluids flying around.

Rachel took in a deep breath, and opened her eyes, never more glad that she didn't dream any more. Except she realized, with a sinking feeling, that she had no sleeping pills with her.

"Rachel?"

"I was just thinking about -well, about them all," Hesitantly, she added, "..I do not suppose there's any sleeping pills available?"

"Um. I think there's some in my parents bathroom."

"Do you think they'd notice if I had some so I may sleep tonight?"

"Do you use them a lot? That doesn't seem like a good idea."

"I needed a way to sleep without nightmares, without waking up in the middle of the night because I heard a sound and for a second thought it was a zombie breaking in." The words are said in a rush, simply because she's so glad to have someone besides Sam to speak about it too -not that she does, much, because she is not quite comfortable with him enough to do so.

"I was like that for a bit too, but my therapist really helped."

"Therapist?" Rachel stared at Brittany incredulous, "How on earth did you explain anything to a therapist."

Brittany shrugged, and handed a block that had gotten tossed away back to her sister, "I didn't explain it, not really? I pretended that I had a past life as a soldier."

"And that worked? Your therapist didn't question it?"

"No, she didn't. What are we going to do?"

"Well, we should call Sam, and also Terri, and set up a meeting, and discuss it from there? I am sure we all have a rough idea of what should be done."

"Okay. Terri's really busy though."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rachel trying not to think about the momentous tasks before them when Brittany said, "You should try out for the Cheerios with me," Lord Tubbington ambled away from Tiffany towards Rachel, a purring monster insistent on head butting her.

"I..." Rachel could not picture herself as a Cheerio. Before, she would have said she was simply above waving pom poms around. She fended off the cat, not knowing what to say.

"It's a good idea. Coach Sylvester is a great coach, and you'll be in super good shape. It's the closest thing to military training we'll find. Plus, if you're a part of the Cheerio's, you'll be friends with the Cheerio's -and when the time comes, we can have the Cheerio's and their families come with us."

"Do we need an army of Cheerleaders? That's more people to save, more people to feed and shelter."

"Are you worried you can't make the team? Because you totally can, I can train you. I've been training Hannah and Tina?"

"Tina? Like, Tina _Tina?"_

Brittany nodded, "She wanted to join them, anyway...and I, um, well, I missed her."

"I am sure it must have been difficult, given how close the two of you were, to be without her as well as the rest of us."

"It was."

The silence sat between them, then Brittany asked, "Have you decided what classes your taking next year?"

"I gave it quite a bit of thought, but ultimately decided to keep the same classes instead of attempting a higher difficultly level -and with the hopes that switching to Spanish instead of French, it will be more useful."

"I can totally help you with Spanish -I'm not very good at reading it, but I can talk it like really great." Brittany added something in Spanish Rachel didn't quite catch

Rachel sighed, "I think you said...something about Santana?"

"Close. Um, kinda. I said I want Santana here because she's way better at teaching Spanish. _My_ Santana."

"So..." Rachel trailed off. Finally, she said, "Do you want me to call Sam?"

Brittany brightened, and nodded.

Fifteen minutes later, Rachel found herself rolling a ball back and forth with Tiffany while Brittany chattered with Sam. She was doing a very good job of stuffing down the feeling of envy that the conversation came so easily to the two of them. At least, she thought as she caught the ball, Lord Tubbington liked her. The cat was currently curled up against her leg, purring, watching them play with half lidded eyes.

Why did people not like her? Even _now,_ with years more maturity and understanding of her flaws?

Lord Tubbington was acting quite a lot like himself, not how she'd expect an almost adult kitten to act.

She froze, and brow furred, stared at the cat.  No. There was no utter way this was the _same_ Lord Tubbington.

She rolled the ball back, not taking her eyes off the cat.

Of course, he _had_ been on the ship the same as them.

"Bye Sam!" Brittany put her hand over the receiver, and asked Rachel, "Do you need to say bye?"

"No, you may tell him I say goodbye, and to have a good game tomorrow."

Brittany did so, and once she'd hung up, Rachel asked her, "Have you noticed anything odd about your cat?"

"Like that he's from the future too? Yes. It's really nice. I'm teaching him new things now because he knows all the stuff from before already."

"Oh." Rachel is not surprised that Brittany had already known Lord Tubbington was time traveler as well -Brittany was quite smart even if she hid it well.

So there was five of them, instead of four.

Brittany joined into their game of ball rolling. They did not talk to each other, simply speaking encouragement to Tiffany, who was soaking up the attention of them both.

Rachel stifled her urge to sigh, and wished Brittany was Santana instead.

Santana was not very nice, even if sometimes Rachel thought they were friends of sorts, and she would certainly take the opportunity to insult Rachel at every turn, but at least there would be no awkward silences because they did not have anything to really say to each other.

Rachel rolled the ball to Tiffany again, and wondered if it would be wrong of her to prank Santana.

"Do you remember the prank war Santana and I had?" She finally asked Brittany.

"It was really more of a prank tit a tat then a war."

"I suppose you are correct...." For a change of pace, she bounced the ball twice to Tiffany, who giggled. "Do you think it would be unfair to prank her? Never mind, forget I asked, it's silly to focus on that when there's more important things."

Brittany shook her head, "I think it would be mean to do it before she's here. I don't think it's silly to want to do it. We're teenagers. We should be having fun and doing silly things."

"Don't you-"

"We can't focus on the future every second. That is literally impossible." Brittany interrupted. She stated, "New rule. We need to have fun, and let go. You and Quinn are going to have a lot of trouble doing that, so it's a rule. We all have to have fun and be teenagers while we can."

"I suppose," Rachel said slowly, "That is an acceptable rule."

 Brittany nodded, "It super is."

"Well, in the name of that," Rachel said, a plan forming, "I am sure Santana already told you, but while you were missing, she kissed me. Then, upon being informed that Quinn and I were in a relationship, offered to join us in a threesome. I am-"

"She was totally messing with you. And I know, she told me."

"And you aren't upset?"

"Mostly I was sad that she was so sad she would kiss _you_. It was a long time ago, well, it will be, except not because it won't happen."

Rachel nodded, " I did not quite get Santana back, and Quinn refused to retaliate for anything, even after Santana hid all our underwear...if you are willing, and assuming that Santana does not experience adverse effects when she comes back, if you don't mind helping me play a prank on her...."

Brittany considered for a moment, then nodded.

They worked out the details, including if Quinn came back first, and after ten minutes of discussion, Rachel ended the conversation with, "Well I'm sure that level of detail will not be needed Brittany."

Brittany shook her head, "No, Santana's totally going to ask because she's super going to think we're messing with her." Brittany stood, then picked up Tiffany, "It's time to feed her. Are you hungry?"

"I could certainly eat," Rachel stood up, and together, the trio went downstairs.

* * *

 

After they fed Tiffany, and ate some leftovers for dinner, they called Terri and arranged for her to  visit in the morning after Brittany's parents left for brunch with some friends.

After dinner, they took care of Tiffany, caught each other up on their going ons and Brittany wore Rachel down enough that not only did Rachel agree to try out for Cheerios, she let Brittany start teaching her the basic movements. Then Brittany insisted they watch a movie, before they retired to her room.

Rachel woke up at her usual time, by now it was a habit, and insisted Brittany join her for a run.

Soon, Terri arrived. Sam had a football game, and asked the one of them call him later to update him, and that they tell Terri he said hi.

"Rachel," Terri gave her a one armed hug, and introduced her to the curly haired toddler in her arms, "This is Oliver."

"Hello Oliver," Rachel said, smiling at him. He hid his face in Terri's chest shyly.

"Hi Terri! This is my sister Tiffany." Brittany set Tiffany down -who was thoroughly uninterested in Terri and Oliver, and more interested in a light up ball she held in her hands.

They made small talk for a few minutes, catching up before Terri looked at the delicate gold watch on her wrist, "I have a study group at ten, so perhaps we could sit down and make some real plans?"

They gathered at the kitchen table, already loaded with drinks, snacks, notebooks and pencils.

Terri and Brittany looked expectantly at Rachel -it took Rachel a moment to say anything...she had somewhat gotten used to not being the one in charge, due to her age, even if some of the adults in her life let her lead the way.

"Well, obviously, you two, and I soon, shall be learning to use the bow. Terri, Brittany mentioned you have guns?"

"Yes," Terri yawned, then sipped at her coffee, "I have a small collection that I'm growing larger bit by bit and I go shooting as often as possible."

"Okay. That is great -don't forget to have ample amounts of ammo as well. I will start shooting too, assuming I can convince my dads," Rachel sighed, "At the moment, besides practicing our weapons, we need to focus on a piece of property we can mold into our specifications planting fruit trees and bushes and such now."

"What about the cabin?" Brittany asked.

"It belongs to the Jones family." Rachel pointed out.

"Oh, right."

"What about money," Terry said, then set Oliver down from her lap. He tentatively veered slowly on wobbly legs towards Tiffany and the light up ball she was rolling to Lords Tubbington, giggling when it bounce off him back to her. He stood and watched, and the trio waited for a moment to see if either toddler would have a problem -when it seemed like Oliver was content to watch while Tiffany ignored him, their conversation resumed.

"Between your student loans and my bat mitzvah money -I took it out of the myspace investments I had it in, and put them in stocks I know will be profitable shortly. Or, at least I will once the stock market crashes in September. Likewise, we should take our time and not buy any property until after that point."

"Can I get a list of those stocks? I considered it, but realized I had no idea where to start. It will considerably ease William's mind if we started winning at the stock market." Terri took another sip of her coffee.

"Of course." Rachel neatly wrote out the stocks that would be best to buy, in order of when to sell, on her notepad then ripped out the page and handed it to Terri.

"So what are we looking for?" Brittany asked.

"Many acres -we will need enough space to farm and grow, and that will require land."

"It shouldn't be too close to any of the cities," Brittany pointed out, nibbling on a cookie. She stopped chewing, and added, "If Santana was here she'd insist on taking over a walmart warehouse."

"Not enough space, all that canned food wouldn't last forever." Terri stared at Rachel, "I am afraid I must insist, Rachel, that we put a cinder block fence -a thick, cinder block fence, around the property. No matter how large it is."

"Terri, that will be incredibily costly, and it will attract oodles of attention from those looking for a safe haven," Rachel protested.

"I know. But do you realize how easy we will rest knowing that there is no way those things will enter our home and eat our babies in their sleep?" Terri's voice started going shrill, "I am willing to negotiate on the moat, but I will not on the cinder block fence. It should be thick, and it should be tall."

"I really like the idea of a moat." Brittany added.

"Terri, no. It will take so long to build, and we can't possibly do it ourselves -that's...miles? Of fencing depending on how large of a property we get, and I was thinking of at least two hundred acres. No, we simply cannot." Rachel shook her head for emphasis.

"So how do you propose we defend our property?" Terri set her coffee mug down and leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms.

"I thought perhaps an electric fence, that we would go high tech in our defenses and-"

"No. Simpler is better. Think castles, think those old time forts. I have had a lot of time to think about this, Rachel. And of your arguments against it, if you decided to be a fool." Terri stared her down, "We will simply time the construction of the fence well -it should be finished roughly in August 2011, with us doing what we can to promise the construction workers full payment after it's complete. Then we simply do not pay -by the end of September, it won't matter. Or, will your stocks, we pay them whatever it takes.  As for it being noticeable -we can disguise it with bamboo and thorny fruiting bushes. We find a bamboo that grows thick and tall."

"That's a really good idea Rachel," Brittany stared at her too, then looked down at the table, "I don't want to lose my sister again, I want us to be safe in our home."

Rachel sighed, "Fine. Whatever property we find, no matter the size, we will have a cinder block fence built around it." They're right, even if it's going to be difficult, this place will be their home and it should have all the protections it can. Even the difficult to implement ones.

"Thick and tall fence." Terri's gone less shrill.

"A thick and tall fence," Rachel amended.

"I still really like the idea of a moat," Brittany said.

They discussed things, such as fruit trees and bow hunting and solar power and yurts until Terri looked at her watch, and said she had to go.

"I hope I can count on you two to babysit? Will and I haven't had a date night since he was born, I just don't trust anyone..." Terri added as she gathers Oliver up from where he'd been playing with Tiffany's toys.

"Of course, I would be happy to babysit for you Terri," Rachel said. She watched as Lord Tubbington stood up from where he'd been laying down the entire time near Tiffany, and rubbed himself against Terri's legs.

"Me too. You wouldn't even need to pay us," Brittany called out.

"Yes, we can just exchange the same money over and over in case Mr. Schue thinks it odd we will work for free." Rachel added and walked Terri and Oliver to the front door. Terri agreed that's a good idea, and after saying goodbyes, with one last hug, Terri and Oliver are gone.

"Santana and Hannah are going to be here soon," Brittany said once Rachel came back, "Do you want to borrow something?"

"I will simply wear my dance leotard, but shorts would be nice."

"Okay."

* * *

 

This Santana was not as quick-witted with the insults as their Santana. Nor was she quite as mean -although she was somewhat mean.

She does not like Rachel either -Rachel is certain Hannah does not as well, as both girls keep finding excuses to pull Brittany aside to talk to her privately. And when Rachel excused herself to use the restroom, when she returned she finds them surrounding Brittany speaking rapidly to her.

It hurt.

If she was braver, she would ask Brittany what they were saying about her, why they did not like her.

Sometimes, though, you can allow yourself to be cowardly, so Rachel doesn't ask. Finally, their practice has ended and Rachel is able to escape.

"My father is here Brittany. Santana, Hannah, it was lovely to meet you." Rachel said. She clutched at her bag, feeling awkward and lonely. Santana is looking at her like Rachel is something nasty she stepped in -it could be envy, as Rachel, despite only giving cheerleading a serious thought yesterday, is nearly at Santana's level. She attributed that to years of gymnastics and dance classes, and an ability to learn things quickly.

Of course, Santana _could_ be upset that Rachel had spent the night with Brittany, and despite how awkward she and Brittany could be with one another -there was a familiarity and a way to them that made them work well together.

Both, Rachel decided.

"Bye Rachel," Brittany hugged her.

"Come on Brittany," Santana grabbed Brittany's hand, hitting Rachel's shoulder as she did so, "Let's help Hannah work on her jumps before my cousin comes to pick us up."

"Please be more careful Santana," Rachel rubbed at her shoulder, then, unable to resist, she added, "I keep razor blades in my hair, I would hate to have to use them on you."

Brittany giggled. Santana glared at Rachel harder, and Hannah looked like maybe she didn't _totally_ dislike Rachel.

Rachel knew she should not mess with Santana, it was immature and unfair, and certainly should not use the other girl's lines, but once or twice it would not hurt, she decided as she greeted LeRoy and entered the Berry family car.

* * *

 

Time passed, and school ended. Soon, Rachel found herself exiting Mrs. Lopez's vehicle after the quartet arrived at McKinley for the first day of try outs.

She was not that concerned -she was fairly certain she would make the team, and if she did not, fine.

She had more pressing items on her mind, such as the fact that Terri had announced to them last week she was pregnant again. That was really the only thing of note to happen in the last month.

She had not gotten much closer to Santana, which was a combination of Rachel not being able to not totally resist needling her, and Santana's jealously at Rachel and Brittany's friendship, but Hannah seemed to tolerate her. Tina liked her, at least, even if she was somewhat shy.

It made her miss Sebastian fiercely, and it was frustrating she could not track him down. She had finally found his Aunt's word of mouth only work number, and was calling first thing Monday.

This week the musical had it's opening night on Friday, and Rachel planned to drop out of it. She had originally decided to do so shortly after Brittany convinced her to try out for the Cheerios, but Brittany and Sam had convinced her to stick it out, and at least have her opening night.

She was _not_ looking forward to the conversation with her dads -it would be much worse after they see her opening night because she would be amazing. They had mixed feelings about her trying out for cheerleading as well.

Rachel spent as much time as possible with Starla, knowing she had mere weeks with the dog left -Rachel brought her everywhere, including to Brittany's house. Lord Tubbington loved cuddling up with the Pomeranian on Brittany's bed. Brittany said he must know the elderly dog did not have much time left, because he wouldn't cuddle like that with the German Sheppard Pit-bull mix puppy Brittany had gotten after winning a bet about grades with her parents.

Rachel and Santana had bonded _slightly_ over the fact that they did not like Brittany's parents. Brittany's parents had readily agreed to the same bet, with the same reward -another puppy, if Brittany managed to get straight A's again all year. Brittany had also, somehow, talked her dad into buying her a VW van, which was nice as Brittany would be able to drive much sooner than Rachel.

She saw Quinn, and she could not breath as she stared at her. Frannie was with her, and Rachel turned and nodded slightly at them to Brittany.

Brittany frowned, "That's Frannie."

"Yes."

"What are we going to do about her?"

"I am not sure, I am not even sure we need to do anything about her at all Brittany."

Hannah joined them so Rachel and Brittany stopped talking. Santana and her mother were still in the car, speaking rapidly in Spanish.

Frannie Harris was something to discuss at their next meeting, not now. Rachel wasn't even sure they had to "deal" with her, just simply avoid her, and possibly see about stocking up on massive amounts of whatever medications Frannie was on.

Rachel turned her attention back to Quinn. She felt like a woman weak in the ocean, near drowning, who had finally reached land.

Quinn Fabray, here and in the flesh. Rachel had tried her best not to think about Quinn -she missed her dreadfully, and it _hurt_. And if she let herself, all her insecurities about Quinn and their relationship rose to the top, bypassing all the good.

It was silly of her, of course. Quinn Fabray was not only a Cheerio, she was _head_ Cheerio -Rachel would be dealing with her, forced to think of her, on what would likely be a daily basis.

Santana slammed the door, making Rachel jump at the sound.

Quinn _distracted_ her. Heart pounding, she turned to glare at Santana.

Santana realized all three other girls attention was on her, she smirked, then said, "Let's go show these bitches who's boss."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, Terri!  
>  It's now August 2008. Expect more slight time jumps here and there -sometimes, there's just simply not much going on for the gang that's worth adding to an already too long chapter.   
> As always, signed in reviewers will receive a sneak peek of the next chapter.   
> Be sure to follow me on tumblr @ gee13 for writing tips, story stuff, and chapter updates.

**Author's Note:**

> More pairings and likely characters will be added as well. 
> 
> I always, when writing, picture Rachel fathers as the men we saw in the picture with her in her locker, not Brian Stokes Mitchell and Jeff Goldblum.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr on my writing blog at Gee13. Mostly just thoughts as I write, photomanips and stuff like that. It's not very populated with anything right now, but it will be.


End file.
